You keep me hangin' on
by Lamech
Summary: Six months after "Swan Song" Dean has tried to settle into a quiet life as best as he can. But thanks to an Archangel with a request for him, help her search for Gabriel, Dean is finding himself being dragged back into the supernatural fold.
1. Chapter 1

NOTE: This story takes place six months after "Swan Song".

I really would like to hear what you think. So, drop a message. Thanks.

**Chapter One**

Domestic life had not been that difficult to adjust to as Dean had thought it would be. Or at least had feared it would be.

Six months ago, he had moved into Lisa's guestroom. Despite the flowery wallpaper and the little bowls of potpourri, Dean found staying in a room whose bedsheets did not light up like a Christmas tree when hit with a UV lamp a pleasant change of pace. Though he still missed the Magic Fingers feature of his past motel beds.

Soon after with the help of Lisa's connections, Dean secured a construction job building houses on the undeveloped edges of the town. Lisa thought it was odd that Dean listed his name as "Dean Moriarty" on his W2 forms. He told her that his real name carried too much legal baggage. Secretly, he simply liked the irony of being Dean Moriarty.

_ Sam isn't the only reader in the family_, he smirked to himself. He frowned a moment later when he realized that he was still using present tense whenever he thought about his brother. The last time he saw Sam, the younger brother had trapped the Fallen Angel, Lucifer, in his human shell and was taking a swan dive with the Archangel, Michael, back into the Pit through a hell hole. Then the earth sealed itself up back to normalcy. Back to ant hills, weeds and trampled grass. Dean knew that if he tried to dig through the dirt all he would find would be more dirt. No secret tunnel to his brother. No massive world of demons. Just worms, rocks and mud.

Dean did not want to think about his brother in Hell. He did not want to wonder if Sammy was still in control of his own body. Or if Lucifer had retaken over and was forcing his brother to ride shotgun. And if Lucifer had taken over, was the Fallen Angel still fighting his own brother?

No, he did not want to think about any of that.

But sometimes he did.

Late at night when Lisa's house became too quiet because she did not have the same tommy gun rattling air conditioners that the motels had, which Dean called his "on the road lullaby", he would lie in bed with eyes wide open. He thought of his promise to Sam. To never try to bring him back from hell. To live a normal nine to five life full of apple pies and baseball. To be happy in this new routine. And for the most part Dean had fulfilled his promise. He was happy to a point. He liked getting up and knowing exactly what he was going to do that day. _Putting up some roofing. Laying some tiling. Hammer. Hammer. Hammer._ It was a switch from his past constant mental march of wondering if this was going to be day that something with claws that catch and teeth that bite would gank him. He liked being around Lisa and Ben. Especially Ben. The kid was like a little version of himself only without the monster of the week horror show. Ben loved old cars, pretty girls and cheese burgers. He was still a little behind on classic rock. But when Dean had introduced him to _Led Zeppelin IV_, the kid took to the music like it was air. Lisa on the other hand was not a classic rock fan.

"Except for that one song by CCR."

Dean winced. "Let me guess, _Bad Moon Rising_?"

"Yeah. How did you know?"

"Just my luck."

Being around Ben was as if Dean was getting a second chance on his own childhood. Only he was not going to make the same jacked up mistakes his father did. Ben knew there were things that went bump in the night out there. But Dean made sure that the boy also knew that with a little salt, sigils and the right gris gris bag, he would not have to worry about them taking him away again. Dean was going to make sure of that. No shoving a gun into Ben's hands and saying, "_Sorry, kid, you ain' sleepin' tonigh'. We be monster huntin'!"_ Dean swore this to Lisa but, again, above all else, he swore to himself. And he kept it.

Still, he was not completely happy. An itch in the back of his skull was always there, scraping away. Dean wanted his brother back.

He had Lisa. He had Ben. He had a solid roof over his head and three actually healthy squares for his belly.

Why could he not have his brother too?

Why was his life always missing something? That whole ying/yang bull that Sam was yammering on years ago, why did it always plague him? Dean could have his brother around but not a normal life. He could have a normal life but not his brother around. That garbage was always tailing him. He could have his life or his father. He could have his father or his life. Everything was either or.

It was as if Dean were ever completely and utterly happy and had everything he wanted, the universe would implode.

"_That's some Douglas Adams crap, right there,"_ he muttered to himself once.

For a moment he thought about breaking his promise to Sam. To try to make a deal with a Demon to bring him back but Dean realized it was an impossible dream. If Sam was by himself in Hell, then perhaps a demon could yank him out. But with Lucifer trapped in jail and Michael and his winged cronies making sure that he did not get out again, no Demon was powerful enough to separate his brother from the Fallen Angel. Sam was stuck. Dean could offer his soul and all the souls in New York City and still no Demon would be able to strike that bargain.

The only being that could do it was God and, frankly, Dean was still a little pissed at Him for bringing Bobby and Castiel back but not his brother. As much as he cared for those two why did they get the one up life and not Sam as well? What sort of cosmic crack up was that? Dean knew that he would never get an answer from a being who liked to keep tight lipped and did most of his talking through a burning bush. He was going to have to live with it. And live with it he did.

Lisa had taken Ben to Kentucky for her Aunt's wedding leaving Dean with the house to himself for the weekend. He had offered to drive the two there but Lisa declined. The wiring in the basement had broken down and someone needed to be home for when the electrician showed up bright and early Monday morning. Dean was volunteered.

"Besides you hate weddings."

"True. But I love wedding cake."

"Is this your way of telling me to bring back a slice?"

"Can you keep it fresh?"

"I've got some Tupperware."

"Then, yes, this is my way of telling you to bring back some cake...and pie, if they've got any."

Saturday rolled around and after working his nine hour shift Dean returned to an empty house. He stood on the thresh hold and gazed into the vacant living room. Usually, the sound of Ben playing his video games would greet him about now. Instead, a big fat nothing was there.

Dean hated it.

He dropped his tool box and jacket on the floor in a pile. He kicked off his work boots and shoved them on the mess with his foot. Since Lisa was not around to give him the stink eye when it came to cleaning up after himself, Dean was not going to bother. The act was his own private middle finger to fate. He closed the door behind himself and wandered into the kitchen. Lisa had a small radio that was made to look 50's retro except for the slot to slip an mp3 player in sitting on the counter. Dean flipped the switch. A poppette, whose fifteen minutes were ten seconds shy of ending, belted out a song about sex in a club's bathroom. _Fantastic._ _Lisa's music._ Dean felt twice his age as he grumbled about how lousy modern music was. He turned the dial until he hit the only Oldies station in the city. The station played both Classic rock and Motown. Dean did not mind Motown. The songs reminded him of his mother and how she used to play her 45's when she was cleaning the house when he was only a tot.

The Animals finished "The House of the Rising Sun" as Dean pulled a beer from the fridge. He uncapped the top as The Supremes began to sing, "You keep me hangin' on." Dean always had a thing for a young Diana Ross but at that moment, the song's lyrics were grating his nerves;

_ Why do ya keep a'comin' around playin' my heart_

_ Why doncha get out of my life and let me make a new start_

_ Let me get over you the way you got over me_

"Shut up," he said as he took a swig from his beer. But he did not turn the knob. Some part of him wanted to think about the people in life who had come and gone. For years this thought pattern was a daily exercise. He would be eating in a backwoods diner thinking about how his mother was gone. He would be driving in the car with Sam next to him asleep, thinking about how his father was gone. And even now he still thought about Sam.

A headache was starting to pound against his temple. He ran the cold bottle across his forehead. He had to stop this nonsense for once and for good.

"You have Lisa and Ben," he bellowed out in the empty kitchen, screwing up his eyes to fight off the headache, "You can't bring them down with your personal baggage. They took your stray ass in and you want to do that to them? And for what? Because you can't deal with the truth, you stupid moron. Mom isn't coming back. Dad isn't coming back. And most of all, Sammy is not coming back!"

"You should really get yourself a yellow cat."

Dean opened his eyes to see a woman sitting at the dining room table.

She smiled. "I hear they always come back the very next day."

Spinning around, Dean tossed the beer bottle in the sink and yanked a knife out from the butcher block. He swung back with the knife out in front of him. His body tensed up in a fighting stance. The woman did not look one ounce of impressed. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs giving Dean a moment to look her over. She was wearing an Eagles of Death Metal shirt, cut offs and white cowboy boots that were scuffed brown on the toes. Her bleached hair was tied up in a messy bun. Everything about her telegraphed truck stop waitress.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Wrong end of the egg there, buddy." She started to mess with the fake sunflower centerpiece. "My vacation home is a little ways to the North."

Dean frowned. "Angel."

"Archangel, really," She rose from her chair, "I like to pull rank." She pointed at the knife in the man's hand, "Are you going to keep waving that thing around? You could take someone's eye out with that. Most likely your own."

Dean looked at his knife. He realized that it was useless against an Angel let alone an Archangel. He might have as well been holding a salami for all the good it could do. Without letting his gaze off of the woman, he slipped the knife behind him and back into the butcher block.

"There," said the Archangel with another smile that reminded Dean of a condescending grade school teacher, "Now we can talk." She pushed the dining table chair back in its place. "You know, Mr. Winchester, you are a very hard man to find seeing how you still have those little carvings all about your rib cage."

Dean felt his chest. He had forgotten about the Enochian markings. He had figured that when Castiel had healed him, the Angel had reversed everything including the carvings. How dumb of him to even think that Castiel would take away that protection from him.

The Archangel shook her head amused at the young man's thick headed nature. She leaned against the back of the chair as if she was gossiping with an old friend. Rolling her eyes she continued, "Anyway, I found myself having to visit one, Mr. Singer."

"_If you've hurt Bobby so help me-"_

"Oh, please, knock it off." The Archangel shook her head again only this time in disgust. "I did jack to him, okay. In fact, I erased his memory of us ever had talked. Give him a ring right now. Ask him what he was doing earlier this afternoon. He'll say he was napping. Sleeping off old Johnny Walker. Go on, I can wait."

"Lady," Dean interrupted, feeling a bit braver before. He knew that in a hand to hand fight an Angel would wipe the floor with him. But there was something about this Archangel that made him drop his guard and think that he could talk her out of his house. Perhaps it was the almost white trash vessel that the Archangel wore but Dean could not help but feel that she was not as cruel or at least as violent as her brothers. "I don't know what you want but you can stop the yammering because you must not have gotten the memo. I am out of the Demons and Angels business. I survived my two weeks until retirement and _I am done._" He swiped his hand against each other, cleaning them free of the imaginary troubles. "So, if you would ever be so kind as to get the hell out of my home."

The Archangel winced. "Again with the "hell." I am the furthest thing from a Demon."

"I'm sorry but you must have mistaken me for someone who actually gives a crap."

The light from the woman's eyes vanished as if someone had blown out a candle. Her smile straightened out to a tight lip slit. She stood like a statue staring down the man in silence. Dean felt his heart sink to his feet. He knew he was wrong about this Archangel. With the look she was giving him, she seemed like she could be every bit as violent as her Brothers. Perhaps even more so.

The radio shorted out in an explosion of sparks. The fridge began to shake like it was alive and angry. The blender turned itself on and roared. The toaster began to smoke. Everything that was connected to electricity was revolting.

Dean stepped away from the counter. He jerked his head up at the overhead light as it blinked a Morse code message that he could not make out. He looked back at the Archangel who was still glaring at him.

"I like you, Dean Winchester. I know all about your story. And, honestly, it's a hoot. But make no mistake-"

Every light and appliance died drowning the room in silence.

"-I don't like you _that_ much."

Dean's heart punched against his rib cage. The hairs on his arms and his neck were standing at attention. Beads of sweat formed on his brow. He had pissed her off and he was completely weaponless.

"That is enough, sister."

Dean jerked to his right and away from Castiel who was standing next to him. Despite having been upgraded to management level in Heaven, the Angel was still wearing his crumpled trench and slacked suit and tie. Dean did not care. He was simply happy to have the Angel around at this moment.

"This man is protected under Heaven's watch. He is not to be harmed by any Celestial host."

"I am?" Dean asked trying to figure out what was going on.

"Butt out, bro," said the Archangel as she crossed her arms with a newly formed scowl on her face. "Mr. Winchester and I need to have a little talk."

That was it. Dean threw his arms in the air, "Enough already!" He pointed at the woman, "You, shut your pretty little pie hole. No one is having an International Coffee moment here."

The Archangel did not say anything.

Dean then pointed at Castiel. "Have you been spying on me this whole time?"

Castiel looked at Dean without expression. "No, not the _whole time. _There were moments where I allowed you to have privacy with yourself. Such as last Friday when you were watching Casa Erotica 4 and-"

"Alright, I got it!" A hot flush burned red in Dean's cheeks. Images of himself on the toilet and in shower with Castiel floating over him with a pair of binoculars and a clip board flooded his mind. He cringed. No amount of bleach was going to scrub that idea clean from his brain. He knew that the Angel meant no ill will but the opposite. However, for a quick moment he wanted to sock Castiel in the jaw for violating his personal space. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Thoughts like that did not matter at the moment. Just more clutter to get in the way of what was in important. "Cas, who's the chick?"

"You know, you can ask me face to face," said the woman, "I have a working mouth."

"_No really?" _snapped Dean before he could stop himself. He held up his hands in a note of truce. The last thing he needed was for the Archangel to become mad again and break even more electronics.

"She is Sariel," said Castiel not even realizing that the Archangel and Dean were in a mini feud. "She is one of the seven Archangels of Earth. Meant to walk the lands in guardianship."

"She is this planet's security guard?"

Sariel palmed her hand against her face. "Oh, thank you for belittling me even more."

Castiel's brow scrunched up. He did not understand. "A security guard? No. She is one of its protectors."

Dean was not buying it. "Then," he said to Sariel, "where were you when your brothers decided to turn Earth into their personal fight club?"

"Trying to keep the tsunamis and earthquakes at bay," the Archangel snapped back through clenched teeth. She was starting to become very sick of the man's tone. "It could have been and should have been much worse than it was, kid. You thought this place was bad. You should have seen Heaven the first time around when Lucifer and Michael had a tift. There's still over turned furniture up stairs."

Dean waved off Sariel's answer, "Fine, whatever." Again, it was more needless nonsense. "So, why are you here? Why do you want to talk to me?"

"Because I need your help finding someone."

"Me finding someone? Who?"

"My brother."

"_Excuse me?"_

"I need you to help me find Gabriel."


	2. Chapter 2

NOTES: Story takes place six months after Swan Song. Sariel's look and style was inspired by Sonny J's video for "Hands free (If you hold my hand). She's the lead singer only she is wearing a Zeppelin shirt. Give the video a chance. The song has a great Tarantino quality to it.

As always, tell me what you think? If you have any questions, I'd be happy to answer them.

Thanks.

CHAPTER TWO

"Gabriel is dead," said Castiel.

Sariel narrowed her eyes. "No."

"It's true," said Dean softly. He could see the pain in the Archangel's eyes. He knew that look like it was his own reflection. "We were at a hotel, The Elysian Fields. Your brother went up against Lucifer. And, well, I didn't see it because Sam and I were running but...Gabriel never came out."

The overhead light started to tap out messages again.

"Yeah, _so_?"

"_So_," Dean began, "dead is dead."

"That's rich coming from you." The light popped and went out. Sariel pointed at Dean. "Just how many times have you died only to have been brought back soon after. Huh? Do you even have a number?"

Dean stared at his feet without saying a word.

"There you go." The Archangel leaned towards the man barely keeping out of his comfort zone. Her eyes locked with his. "I know that Gabriel died. Castiel can tell you. It's a huge deal when an Archangel bites it."

Dean glanced at Castiel. The Angel nodded. "When you and Sam told me about Gabriel's death at the hotel and then you showed me the DVD, I told a few Angels that were still on speaking terms with me. From there, they spread the word. There was a great despair. All of Heaven wept."

"They even kept the hotel erected as a tomb," said Sariel, "It would be invisible to non-Angels but for us, it would always stand-"

"-as a monument of when the Prodigal Son returned and picked up his sword for the side of the Just," finished Castiel.

Dean's heart ached for the two. The idea of a garish hotel as a tomb was somewhat fitting for the Trickster Archangel. However; any tomb was a reminder of who was lost. A thought pricked his mind, "There were gods in that place. Dead gods. What happened to them?"

Shrugging her shoulders, Sariel leaned back and slouched against the counter. "Their bodies were shoved into the hotel's meat locker."

"_Like leftovers?"_

"Yep, and serves them right. They shouldn't have tried to go after Lucifer."

The man's mouth fell open but he could not think of anything to say.

"Don't be so horrified. They weren't missed."

"How could they have not been missed?" Dean said almost shouting, "They were gods."

Sariel exchanged tired looks with Castiel. She waved a hand off as if inviting the Angel to answer this one.

"Pagan gods are different from Angels," Castiel explained in a flat voice like he was reading from a manual. "Most of them, at least. Angels are always joyous to have more Angels around. The creation of an Angel is a celebration. It is very much like the birth of a Human child. Only with less handing out of cigars." He paused waiting for Dean to laugh at his attempt at a joke. When Dean did not so much as smile, Castiel cleared his throat and continued. "Pagan gods, on the hand, see other gods as competition. They are constantly fighting amongst themselves over land, goods, magic and worshippers."

"So," stepped in Sariel, "when a god kicks the bucket everyone pops their champagne corks. One less adversary in the game." Her face became serious once more. "No one came for them, Dean. No one asked for them. No one cared." She scrunched up her face. "Or at least I thought no one did."

"What do you mean, sister?" asked Castiel as he cocked his head.

Dean drew closer. He wanted to know too.

The Archangel began to pace between the kitchen and the dining room. She scratched behind her ear looking as if she was trying to figure out the right words to say. "The instant Michael and Lucifer fell into that pit and the Earth shut closed, clean-up began. The six other Archangels of the Earth and myself made sure the floods, plagues, and hurricanes that came about due to Lucifer's road trips were taken care of. I was the one who was regulated to check the Earth's sub-pockets."

"'Sub-pockets?'" asked Dean.

"They're realms within realms. They share the same sun and sky but not entirely. Places like Olympus. The actually one. Not the mountain. My job was to make sure that those lands were okay as well. Because if they weren't, the gods, demi-gods and what not that lived there would be ticked. And if they are ticked they create havoc nature-wise. Which makes my job as an Earth guardian so much more difficult."

"Sariel," said the man, "with all due respect-" He made circles with his hand indicating that the Archangel should cut the fat and get to the meat of the story.

The Archangel bit her lip and held up her hands. "Sorry, I am not used to talking about work. And I am definitely not used to the impatience of Humans."

Castiel rolled his eyes and nodded in agreement. "Tell me about it."

"Hey," snapped Dean, smacking the Angel in the arm as hard as he could knowing that it would barely tickle Castiel. "Can we get back to the sub-pockets, already?"

"Right," Sariel nodded. "The first place I went to was Asgard. Now do you know who I found there drunk off his ass and eating golden apples like there was no tomorrow? _Odin_."

Disbelief washed over Dean. "That can't be. Odin's dead. Lucifer smoked him."

"I know! I was the one who personally put that geezer in the freezer. But there he was in all of his glass eye glory."

Castiel began to pace after his sister, "I did not know this. How come I do not know this?"

Swinging around, she grabbed her brother by his shoulders, halting the both of them. "No one but me knows this. It just happened."

"How could it have just happened?" asked Dean. "It has been six months since your brothers went under."

"Time works differently in the sub-pockets. You go there for a day only to return here and find out that six months have passed."

Dean remembered reading about fairy circles that acted exactly like that in an entry in his father's journal. "Fine, then. Here's the sixty-four thousand dollar question, who brought him back?"

Letting go of her brother, Sariel shrugged as if she could not fathom the truth even though she was the one telling it. "That's the thing. The old man says he doesn't know. All he does know is that right before he opened his eyes again he heard a voice telling him that he had to wake up. That he had his own prophecy to full fill. And then _bam_! He was in Valhalla."

The room became quiet as everyone was lost in their minds. Even though they were not talking, the same thought screamed loud and bright as a supernova in each of them.

"Could it have been Father?"

Sariel stared off into nothingness with her mind beating hard with ideas. "Who else can bring a god back to life, renew his powers and send him on his merry little way?"

Dean searched his head for an answer but could not find one besides the person being God, Himself. He wished he was at Bobby's. At least then he could double check it against the books. However; deep down Dean knew that the truth had to be God. He looked over at Castiel. An expression flashed over the Angel's face that took Dean back. _Was that disgust? _Strong emotions were a rarity for Castiel. Outward expressions were even rarer. But Dean could not deny what he had seen. There was anger in those blue eyes. Dean wondered if Castiel was pissed off at his own Father for the same reason why he was pissed off at Him. _All these people get a second life but not the ones either of us want. _

"Could that Odin have been a doppelganger?" asked Castiel. He seemed to be begging for the Odin resurrection to be a lie. "A shapeshifter perhaps? Maybe his real body still lies in the meat locker."

Sariel shook her head. "No. That was him. I went back to the hotel immediately after I came across his living, breathing self. No one had touch the place since I had sealed it up with sigils. Except for a few stored away Human body parts, the meat locker was empty."

"What about Gabriel's vessel?"

"Gone as well. And his death shroud, the one I laid on his body after finding him? It had not been disturbed. It was as if Gabriel's vessel had vanished right from underneath the fabric. And that's why I don't think he's dead anymore. Because if Father can bring you and Dean back, as well as Odin then why couldn't He have brought Gabriel back? He had to." There was a crack in her voice. "He simply had to."

The room grew quiet again as everyone swam in their thoughts. Dean frowned knowing what he had to say next but did not know how to say it politely. After all, missing siblings and a schmuck for a father was a common road for him. He felt like he understood where the two siblings were coming from. In any other time, he would buy the two a beer and whine about the suckfest that was their immediate family. Still, the question had to be asked.

He tensed up knowing that there was a good chance there was going to be another electrical storm running through the house any second. "Sariel," he started off slowly, "Not to be a dick or anything but what does this got to do with me?"

The appliances stayed still but a disgusted frown came across Sariel. But the frown took on an exhausted feel. Dean could have sworn that he saw the Archangel's vessel reveal every second of her age. And Sariel looked ancient. "You're tied to my brother. At least more so than me."

"What do you mean?"

"After the war in Heaven between Lucifer with his Angels and Michael with his, Gabriel was the one who locked Lucifer up."

"I thought it was Michael who threw Lucifer into the pit."

The Archangel shook her head. "It was Father who made the pit. It was Michael who threw Lucifer in the cage. And it was Gabriel who locked the cage and tossed the key."

Dean thought about Gabriel on the DVD. _That's how he knew about the Horsemen's rings. He was the one who had the key in the first place. _

"Locking up his brother killed him. Absolutely killed him. After that Gabriel disappeared. No one knew where he was except Father and He wasn't speaking. Personally, I thought Gabriel had gone off world and transformed into a star."

"You can do that?" Dean said trying to imagine the Trickster that he knew bursting into a huge ball of gas and light.

"Like I said," Sariel continued rolling her eyes, "I thought he _had_ transformed into a star. And if that was the case the search was screwed because have you ever looked at the night sky? Not exactly an Easter egg hunt. Especially for me seeing how my station was on Earth. Leaving my post was and is verboten. But then something interesting happened. Angels were getting assigned to certain Humans because Gabriel had showed up delivering messages from God. But it was always after the fact. Father gave a memo to Gabriel. Gabriel passed the word to the subject. Then bro would disappear. Then an Angel would be assigned to that Human to watch over him or her. And this went on for millennia and up until a few hundred years ago."

"We've been thinking that as long as Gabriel delivered the word of our Father, Father would leave Gabriel alone," said Castiel. "How else was he able to hide away from Heaven's eyes for this long?"

Sariel nodded in agreement. "All of those years and not one Angel came across him? Not one caught a glimpse of him? _Please._ And this is where you come in. How many times have you bumped into my brother?"

Dean backtracked in his head. He remembered the Janitor, Sam's Groundhog Day bit, the Prime Time television gag and the hotel. "Around four times."

"Four times. In your short, brief candle of a life, you've run into my brother _four times_. Again, not one Angel has been able to catch wind of him for millennia. What does that tell you?"

"Oh, come on," Dean threw his hands in the air. "You can't seriously be suggesting this. I am not tied to your brother, Lady. I am just..."

"The old vessel for Michael," Sariel interrupted, "The same Archangel who was one of the four to see the face of God. A group which included Gabriel."

"No. No. No," Dean waved his hands over his head as if he could swipe off the very idea of what Sariel was saying. He stormed past the Archangel into the dining room. His headache was starting to turn into a migraine. All he wanted to do was to go up to his room and crash on his bed.

Sariel appeared in front of him.

Dean jumped back, tripping over his own feet. Down he went but felt two arms wrapping around his chest. He looked up to see Castiel holding him. The Angel set him back up. Dean jerked his shirt down, straightening his rumpled clothing. "Cas, tell your sister I don't want to hear any more of this bunk."

"I do not think it's _bunk_, Dean."

"Then you agree with her? You think I am tied to Gabriel?"

"You were once Michael's potential vessel."

Letting out a growl, Dean turned to continue his path towards his bedroom only to face Sariel. He held his hands up in peace as he walked around the Archangel. His face never leaving her stare. He swung around to go up stairs only to find Sariel standing in front of him again. Dean spun around towards the front door, deciding if she was going to follow him around the house he was going to go outside. But again, she was right there. He dodged around her leaving her in the dining room. Racing for the entrance, he grabbed the handle and yanked the door open. Sariel was standing on the porch looking in.

"Oh, come on!" he said again. He tossed his head back, "Cas, I thought you said I couldn't be harmed by any Angel."

"She is not harming you."

Dean jumped sideways again and away from Castiel who had popped up on his left side.

"Stop that!" Dean slammed the door shut in Sariel's face. He stomped back into the kitchen to see Sariel leaning against the counter with her arms crossed. She was smirking. Dean paused giving her a dirty look. He then went to the fridge and grabbed a beer. Uncapping, he took one long swig nearly emptying half the bottle. He gave Sariel another dirty look in case she did not understand the first one. Without checking his left side, he slapped his hand in the space. He felt the wrinkled fabric of a suit and tie. Castiel was back as Dean was assure he would be. Only a short while ago, Dean had been bemoaning about how everyone in his life eventually left him. Now he was stuck with two supernatural beings that he could not shake off. Somewhere Dean was convinced that God was laughing at the irony. He took another swig to stop himself from calling the being a bastard out loud.

An idea occurred to him. An idea that would surely enrage the Archangel. However, Dean knew he had to ask it. He took another swig for courage. "How powerful are you, Sariel?"

"Pardon?"

Another swig. "I mean, how strong of an Archangel are you? I met Raphael. He blacked out the entire Eastern Seaboard. Are you that powerful? What can you do?"

Sariel tilted her head at the question. She found it odd but still ran through her memories for an answer. Her mouth flattened out to a grim slit. "Remember that earthquake that happened in the Indian Ocean back in '04. The one that made those tsunamis? _That was me._"

Dean dropped his beer. Castiel caught the bottle before it hit the floor. He handed it back to the man. Dean took it and finished the rest of the bottle in one gulp. He tossed the beer in the sink, clinking it against its twin. "Then it may be possible."

"What may be possible?" asked Sariel.

"You want me to help you find your brother?" He stepped up face to face with the Archangel. In her boots and his socks, she was barely a couple of inches shorter than him. "Alright, but only on one condition, you yank Sam and Adam out of Hell."

Dean waited for the Archangel to growl at him and to make the electricity dance again. After all, even though he was Michael's vessel at some point, he was still a little guppy of a Human to her Great White. But instead of anger, confusion showed on her face followed by an expression that spoke, _"You poor bastard."_

"What?" said the man.

"You don't know?"

"Know what?"

Sariel caught Castiel narrowing his eyes and shaking his head. Her eyes went back to Dean who was standing there quickly turning pissed. Then back to Castiel who gave her a threatening glare. She knew that Castiel could do little to her. His rank gave him so much power against hers. But still, there was something in his eyes that said if she tried to speak, she would at least lose an ear.

Dean watched as she went from confused to taken back. Her whole body leaned back further on the counter as if to distance herself from him. Dean knew that was incorrect. She was not afraid of her she was afraid of Castiel. The man turned to the Angel behind him. Castiel's face was flat. Not even a grimace or a smirk. His blue eyes drifted from Sariel to the man's. Nothing was behind them. It was as if Castiel had tied up his emotions and expressions in a neat bow and shoved them into the deepest place within himself for safe keeping. Dean went back to Sariel who was still staring at Castiel with a stern expression.

_What the hell is going on here?_ Dean thought. Castiel was hiding something. He was sure of it. But the Angel was not one to keep things from him. The opposite was often the truth. Castiel was quite childlike in that if he thought it, he spoke it. No information was too private or personal.

At least that was what Dean had believed. But now the Angel was definitely hiding something. Something so big that even an Archangel was afraid to speak it.

However; that did not stop Dean from asking again, "Know what?"

Sariel refused to look the man in the eye. She stared at the broken overhead light. "Know that it is forbidden by Father's law. What's done is done and Sam and Adam have to stay down there."

_Liar!_ Dean bit deep into his tongue to help hide his simmering temper. He wanted to seize Castiel by the lapels and shake him, demanding to be told what he knew and why was the Angel hiding it from him. _If you know something, you winged son of a bitch._ Dean shut his eyes. He reminded himself that Castiel was a friend. More than a friend. The Angel literally went through hell and back for him. He was family. However; Dean had punched family before. Castiel would not be an exception. But Dean also knew that the moment he tried to manhandle the Angel, Castiel would either vanish or knock Dean out with a touch. Either way, he would be without answers. _Dammit, Cas, what is it that you can't tell me?_

No, Dean would have to use his wits instead of his fists. He did not know how sharp Sariel was yet but Castiel was all book and no street. If he tried, Dean could probably con the Angel into spilling his guts. Dean had done it a million times with other people. Say you are from whatever department. Flash a badge. Grin the pearly whites. Get the information. _Easy-peasy_. Doing something similar to Castiel should not be that different. At least not that hard. The down side to this was he was going to have to stick to Castiel where ever he went. And it seemed right now Castiel was going to stick to Sariel. Dean was going to have to say "yes" to that woman's stupid quest. _Fan-frikkin-tastic. _

"Dean," said Sariel, "please, come with me." She looked over to her brother. "Come with us."

Dean frowned. "You are coming along after all, Cas?"

"I am now." Castiel stared at Dean intensely. There was something heartbreaking in the Angel's eyes. Castiel turned away, blinking. Apparently, something he did not want to share with the man.

"Okay," Dean clenched his teeth, "but promise me this, Lady, Daddy's law or not, you help me find a loop hole to get my brothers back."

Sariel gave him another _poor bastard _look. "Kid, I don't think there is a loop hole. Not in this case."

"There's always a loop hole."

Sariel exchanged glances with Castiel again. The Angel nodded.

"Deal," she said. "We'll look for this mysterious loop hole after we're done."

"And I also need to be back by Monday or else."

"What's happening Monday?" she asked.

"The wiring in the basement is shot to hell. I've got an electrician coming in to look at it."

Sariel laughed. "You're kidding, right?"

"Lady, I work in construction. I never kid about wiring."

The Archangel smiled. Dean was becoming cute to her again. "Wait a tic." She vanished.

Dean was alone with Castiel in the kitchen. Dean's palms began to itch. He wanted to reach out and yank Castiel. The Angel was not even looking at him now. He was pretending to be interested in the fried radio. Instead of being casual, he was hamming it up. Playing with the knobs and hitting the top as if he really understood the inner workings of the machine.

A hot flush was turning Dean's ears pink. He was brewing harder and harder with each passing second. The urge to scream, "LOOK AT ME!" was starting to make his body tremble.

_You know something, Cas. GOD DAMN IT! YOU KNOW SOMETHING!_

"Done."

Dean swung around to see Sariel standing at the kitchen entrance. "You were right. It was shot to hell. But it's honky dory David Bowie now. Let's hit the road."

"Wait," said Dean as he turned back to Castiel. The Angel was still refusing to look him in the eye. "There are a few things I need to get before we can go. Give me a second." He stormed out of the kitchen, grazing Sariel in the shoulder. He did not bother to apologize. Rounding out the living room corner, he stopped and crouched low. Leaning in, he spied into the kitchen hoping that now that Castiel and Sariel were alone, they would trip something up. Dean felt like he was four again and sneaking a peek at one of the many fights his parents had when they thought he was not around. Only Castiel and Sariel were not speaking. They were not even moving. Dean squinted his eyes. He could not tell with Sariel since her back was to him but for Castiel he could see his actions plainly. His chest was not moving. He was not breathing! Dean shut his eyes thinking that they were playing tricks on him. Castiel had to breathe. He could have sworn he heard the Angel gasp once in a fight.

Dean rose to his feet and leaned over again. The two beings were still flesh and blood statues. He was not going to learn a single thing from spying on them. He snorted a grunt in frustration. Going to the front entrance, he grabbed his jacket from the heap. Poking around in the pockets, he took out his phone and ran up stairs to his room. He slammed the door behind him.

Sariel's eyes climbed up to the ceiling. Dean was gone. _Good._ She could now speak. "Why haven't you told him his brothers are back on Earth?"

Castiel frowned. "Orders."

"Whose? I know all the orders that trickle down from the higher ups. I haven't heard of a memo."

"That is because there is no memo. The order doesn't come from Heaven."

"Then from whom does it come from?"

"It comes from Sam. _Himself._"

Dean clicked on the phone's menu. Going through his address book, he stopped at the second number on his list. He dialed. He began to pace around the room, kicking about the dirty clothes that littered the floor.

"Come on. Come on," he said biting into the nails of his free hand, "Be there and pick up. Please."

There was a click on the other end.

"Hello," said a gruff voice.

"Bobby, it's me, Dean."

"Dean? Good to hear from you, son. It has been about two weeks, hasn't it? How the hell are you?"

A twinge of guilt came over the Dean. It had been two weeks since he had last called Bobby. Ever since he had returned from hell to learn that Sam had practically abandon Bobby, leaving the man heartbroken and on a bender, Dean promised that if something like that happened and the roles were reversed, he would never forget Bobby. Bobby was blood without the blood. Especially when Dean had learned that the man who had saved Sam and his life time and time again, the man who Dean thought was one of the bravest and most loyal men that he had ever known was seen by the outside world as the town drunk. That truth ate Dean up. He wanted to go around and slug each and every person who ever dared to slur Bobby's name. So, Dean kept in touch hoping that Bobby would know that at least one person on the planet believed in him and was grateful that he was around.

"Sorry that I haven't called, Bobby. It's just-"

"You have a different life," said Bobby. Dean could hear the smile in the man's voice. "It's alright, boy. I understand. I am just happy you've called."

Dean smiled weakly. _Good old Bobby_. He snapped his fingers, "Bobby, what can you tell me about the Archangel, Sariel?"

"Sariel?"

"Yeah."

There was a pause. Dean could hear books being opened and paper ruffling. "Here we go. Sariel. He's also known as Suriel. But depending on what book you are reading, they can be two separate Archangels."

"Tell me about both of them."

"Their stories are similar. Suriel is an Angel of healing. He's also an Angel of Death."

Dean stopped and pinched the bridge of his nose in disgust. "That's nice. What else?"

"Well, Sariel is listed as one of the seven Archangels in Enoch as well as one of the seven Archangels of Earth. We are talking a big bad mofo here. Think a Roman general watching over the planet. During Biblical times, soldiers used to write his name on their shields to invoke his protection as well as his power."

"Did it work?"

"Whole armies were wiped out by those guys. Like I said, this is one nasty Archangel. Why do you ask?"

"I ask 'cause Sariel, who is actually a girl, is in my kitchen right now hanging out with Cas."

"What?"

Dean pulled the phone away from his head. Bobby's yell nearly busted his ear drum. He stuck his pinkie in his ear and wiggled the finger. He could still hear the ringing even after he had pulled his hand away but it was less harsh. He brought the phone back to his ear. Bobby was already going on a full blow out.

"-is wrong with you, boy? What have you gotten yourself into this time? You were supposed to lie low."

"I am lying low!" Dean began to pace again, "The Archangel came to me."

"Came to you. What does she possibly want from you?"

"To help her find Gabriel."

"_Gabriel?_ I thought he was dead."

"It doesn't look like it any more."

"What do you mean by that? No, don't answer. It doesn't matter. Boy, you listen here and you listen good. You tell that Archangel to shove it. You are no longer in the hunting business."

Dean stopped and dropped the phone to his chest. He knew what he was about to say next was going to make Bobby madder than he already was. Dean winced. Bobby was going to chew him out even more than he already was now. The old man's tirades always made him feel like a snot nosed teenager again. On some days Dean actually liked them. It was nice to have someone who cared enough about him that they were willing to take the time to beat some sense into him. But today was not one of those days. Dean raised the phone again.

"I already said, "yes," Bobby. Look, Cas is acting weird. I think he's hiding something about Sam."

"Cas? Why would he be hiding anything from you?"

"That's what I want to know. If he knows something that can get Sam out-"

"Dean, no. Remember your promise to Sam."

A red flush burned in Dean's cheeks. There were way too many people today telling him what he could and could not do. "I don't care. That was a stupid promise anyway. Besides, I may have promised Sammy but I didn't promise Adam. So, say I am really doing this for Adam if that helps you sleep at night. And if Sam happens to return to Earth because of this action, _bonus_."

"Dean Winchester, you are not-"

Dean hung up. He slipped his phone in his jeans pocket. "I'm really sorry, Bobby," he said out loud. "But it's Sam."

Bobby slammed his phone down on his desk. "God dammit!" He grabbed a book and threw it across the room. It hit the kitchen stove and dropped to the floor. "Dean has gotten himself mixed up with some Angel crap now. _And why?_ Because he thinks if he does what they want he can bring you back from Hell."

From across the desk, Sam closed the book he was reading._ "That idiot."_


	3. Chapter 3

NOTE: This story takes place six months after "Swan Song".

Sometimes I wish written fiction was more like DVDs because I had to cut out so many scenes in this chapter just to keep the pacing right and would love to have a deleted scenes feature. I had one part where Sam asked Castiel how has Dean been doing since he had not spied on his brother in a few weeks. Castiel answers, "He laughs." Which I thought was a bittersweet moment. But it did not really fit. So, off it went.

As always, tell me what you think. If you have any questions, I'd be happy to answer them. Thanks for reading.

* * *

Chapter Three

"This has gone on long enough, Sam. You have to tell him!"

Sam dug into his pocket and took out his phone. He flipped the keyboard open.

Bobby went to the kitchen and picked up the book he had thrown. "The deal was that we wouldn't tell Dean about you and Adam coming back as long as I kept in touch with him on the phone and you spied on him on occasion. That way Dean could have a nice, normal life."

"I know that," said Sam.

"Well, he's not having a nice, normal life, is he?" The man's voice turned into a roar. "The Angels are dragging him on some wild goose chase. And your _idjit_ brother is allowing it in some half-assed hope that he can bring you and Adam back. But that's not going to work now is it? Because you guys are not in Hell, are you?"

Sam did not say anything. His thumbs were flying across the keyboard.

In frustration, Bobby slammed the book down on the table next to Sam. The young man did not even flinch.

"What are you doing?" Bobby growled.

Sam hit "send" and closed the phone. He stood up. "I'm texting Cas."

Bobby was taken back. "Cas knows how to text?"

"Yeah. And it only took me a week to teach him."

"How long is it going to take him to get ba-"

There was a rush of air in the den like a windstorm had broken out only to die instantly later. Castiel was standing in the middle of the room holding his phone. "I received your message. You needed to see me?"

Sam stuffed his phone in his pocket. "You better believe I needed to see you. Why are you dragging Dean around looking for Gabriel?"

Castiel looked shocked and confused as Sam had seemed to pull that information out of no where. First Sariel with Odin and now Sam with Dean. The Angel was beginning to feel like he was two steps behind everyone. "How do you know that?"

Sitting back behind his desk, Bobby tapped on his phone, "Dean just called asking for a background check on Sariel. He said she was hanging out in his kitchen. Castiel, what is going on? I thought Gabriel was dead but Dean doesn't think so."

"Dean may be right. One of the gods that Lucifer murdered at the Elysian Fields Hotel has been resurrected. There may be more because every last body that was in the hotel is gone. Including my brother's."

"And what does this have to do with Dean?" asked Sam.

"Sariel believes that he has a connection to Gabriel and that she could use Dean to find him."

"Why does she believe that?"

"Because he was Michael's vessel. Michael was one of the four Archangels to see the face of God as was Gabriel. There is a connection between the brothers because of this."

Sam shrugged his shoulders. "Lucifer saw God's face too and I was his vessel. Use me instead of Dean. Leave him alone and I'll go where ever you want."

Castiel frowned. He shook his head as he refused to look Sam in the eye. "You can't."

"Why not?"

"Because for the very reason that you were Lucifer's vessel. We can not run the risk that diving into your psyche may open a portal for him to return."

A knot grew in Sam's gut. He knew he still had ties to Lucifer be had not realized they were so raw. The thought that Lucifer could climb back into him as easily as a person slipping into a suit terrified him. Lucifer had already worn him once. Had shoved Sam so far back in his skin that the man thought he was on the other side of universe. And even then Lucifer, the real Fallen Angel, with his many wings of fire that burned like dying suns and his multiple faces that took on the snarl of his pride, could be seen as brilliant as day. For Lucifer was everywhere Sam looked. Sam could not hide from him.

Sam dropped to his chair. His skin had grown ghost white and he wanted to throw up. But he still thought of his brother, "You can't, Castiel. You can't take Dean. We promised that we would keep him out of hunting for the rest of his life."

"No," said the Angel. There was an edge to his voice. "_You_ promised that. I agreed because Dean does deserve peace."

"Cas, goddamit," yelled Bobby. "What has gotten into you? It's Dean!"

"And it's Gabriel!" he snapped back.

Bobby and Sam were stunned by Castiel's outburst. The Angel stood there with his eyes narrowed and staring at the space between them. His face was a stern mask of stone. "Do you know how many sisters and brothers I have lost since I have raised Dean from hell? I even killed some of them, myself. Initially, I was not a part of this. However; if there is a sliver of a chance that one of them may be alive out there somewhere, I am willing to take it."

"But it's Gabriel," said Sam. "Last time you saw him he tossed you around and bruised you up. Not to mention that he has been estranged for God knows how long. You must barely know him. How can you care so much for someone who is practically a stranger?"

Castiel's shoulders dropped back as his head slowly turned to meet Sam's eyes. His entire body tensed up seemingly ready to fight. Sam could feel the hairs on his arms raise at attention. Every last primal instinct told him to flee. He clenched his teeth and buried the fear in his bones.

"How is Adam, by the way?" Castiel said drawing out each and every word and dipping it in ice. "Are you still sending him money? Were you able to use your college connections to get him that scholarship you were talking about?"

Sam bared his teeth. "That's not the same, Cas, and you know it."

"_Really?"_

"Dammit, Cas-"

"SHUT UP!" yelled Bobby straining his voice, "THE BOTH OF YOU!"

Castiel and Sam obeyed.

Bobby rose from his chair. Closing his eyes, he took off his ball cap and scratched his scalp. His mind was racing with a million thoughts. All of which came to the same conclusion. He hated that conclusion. He put his hat back on and sighed. "Castiel, can you promise me that Dean will be absolutely safe with you and Sariel?"

"What?" Sam jumped to his feet. He was dumbfounded. He thought Bobby had his back. "You can't really mean-"

"Dean already said 'yes'," explained Bobby. "If Castiel and Sariel just up and disappear on him after asking for his help, he's going to get suspicious. Hell, the boy already is suspicious. He thinks that Cas is hiding something. Which he is. _You. _We have to let this play out or else Dean is going to start sniffing around. And once he does that, he will find you and Adam, Sam. And you know he will."

Sam sunk back in his chair. "Bobby..."

"Look, I don't like it any more than you do. But the faster Dean goes on this fool's errand, the faster he can return to his Mayberry life," He turned back to Castiel who was standing there as still as a shadow. "So, can you promise me?"

"I will die before he does."

"Then go, you son of a bitch."

Castiel nodded and vanished.

Dean came bounding down the stairs. He had grabbed his old Colt 1911 from its hiding spot between the mattress and the boxspring in his room. Lisa did not even know of the gun. Dean liked it that way. The gun was his security blanket and one of the few things he could not let go from his old life. Having it around allowed him to sleep better at night knowing that he could grab it if anyone broke into the house. Though with the track record of the past few months, the most Dean had to worry about was shooting a stray raccoon that had wandered into the crawlspace above the attic.

He stuffed it in the back of his jeans waistband and fixed his shirt on top of it. "I called in all of my sick days at work," he shouted as he shoved his feet into his boots and tied the laces. He grabbed his jacket and tossed it on. "I am cleared until next Saturday." He wandered into the kitchen, "If this little recon takes more than a week, well, you're going to have to take it up with my boss."

Sariel was leaning against the counter. With her head thrown back, she was staring at the overhead light which had relit itself despite having been blown out. She was alone.

"Where's Cas?"

She pointed upwards. "Said he had to do some paperwork to clear this job."

"_Paperwork?" _Dean raised a doubtful eyebrow. _"In Heaven?"_

She shrugged her shoulders. "Bureaucracy is universal." She lolled her head to the side, smiling in his direction, "Don't worry. He'll be back in a jiffy."

Dean smiled back despite himself. He had a soft spot for anyone who used the word, _"jiffy". _He caught himself forgetting for a moment that the woman in his kitchen could possibly sink half of California in the ocean if she wished to. But then he saw that the once dead overhead light was back on. _She's an Archangel. She's an Archangel. She's an Archangel. _His mind thumped the thought in his skull trying to make the marking permanent. He gave the woman a glance as he pulled a bottle of water from the fridge. _Okay, she's an Archangel in short shorts. Dammit, Dean. Focus. _He opened the bottle and took a sip. "I have to ask. You said the Bobby didn't 'fess to where I was. How did you find me?"

Sariel reached into her back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "I remembered the Winchester Gospels and I paid a visit to the Prophet Charles Shurley to see if he had written anything about you lately."

Dean groaned at the mention of the Winchester Gospels. Even now Dean had a hard time believing that one day those cheesy novels would be considered holy scripture. He thought of Chuck as a nice enough guy but still could not help but think _Man, those books were badly written. _"How is Chuck, by the way?"

"I don't know. " Sariel unfolded the piece of paper. "The Holy Prophet wasn't there when I had dropped by." She handed it to Dean. "Anyway, I found a story he had been working on. I wrote some of it down here."

Putting the bottle of water on the counter, Dean took the paper and began to read. The passage Sariel had written down spoke of Dean's search to find Lisa again right after he had made up his mind to say "yes" to Michael. Every last detail was there. Which states he had gone through. What streets he had search. What the color of Lisa's house was. Even the smell of the lilac incense that had wafted out when Lisa opened the door to him. It was all there as if he had written the passage himself from memory.

A cold chill raced down Dean's spine. _Always a bug under glass. _He crumpled up the paper and tossed it in the trash. He looked back at Sariel as if daring her to say something. She stared back for a second only to return her gaze to the ceiling.

Castiel appeared in the dining room.

Sariel clasped her hands in excitement. "Are we good to go?"

"Yes," he said.

"No, we're aren't. Not yet." Dean went to a kitchen drawer and opened it. He took out a pad of paper and a pen. He scribbled down;

"_Went out. Will be back soon. Basement works fine. _

_-Dean"_

He skimmed it over and added;

"_P.S. I owe you a radio."_

He slapped the paper down on the open space counter that faced the front entrance. Grabbing the two empty bottles from the sink, he placed them on the edge of the paper. _There._ _Just in case if I am not back in time. _With Lisa's hatred of messes, the bottles would grab her attention and she would see the note.

"Okay, now we can go."

Sariel grabbed Dean by the shoulder and Castiel by his hand.

"Where are we going fir-" before Castiel could finish he found himself standing in front of the Elysian Fields Hotel.

"What are we doing in the middle of an empty field?" asked Dean as he gazed out on the flat plain that was littered with wiltering dandelions.

Sariel smacked the man on the back of his head.

He let out a yelp. Rubbing the sore spot, he growled, "What the hell was that fo-?" His eyes stared at the front of a building that was not there a moment ago. He scanned up and up taking every inch of it in.

"Your sight needed adjusting." Sariel stepped up to the entrance. There was a sigil painted in her blood on the front door. Enochian lettering encircled her name. She slipped a Swiss Army knife from her pocket and pulled out the blade. She sliced open her palm. Blood beaded and then pooled in the cup of her hand. She muttered something under her breath and slapped her hand against the sigil. She pulled away. The lettering began to burn and turn to flame. Smoke and ash drifted into the air leaving the glass behind it clean. She balled up her injured hand and reopened it. The blood and the cut was gone. Grabbing the doorknob, she turned it and opened the door.

All three walked in. The perfume of flowers greeted them. Dean scanned the room. Lilies of the Valley grew along the wall. Their stems and leaves stretched from floor to ceiling. Roots dug deep into the carpet holding the plants in place. This was not the smell Dean had expected from a place that had been turned into a slaughterhouse. Still, there was something eerily death-like about it. He sniffed the air trying to smell the blood that had once soaked the carpets and the walls. The memory of that metallic stench never leaves anyone who has ever smelled it. But there was no blood reek there. Only flowers.

"Did you guys do this?" he asked pointing to the plants.

"A tomb needs flowers," Sariel answered as she headed to the hallway. She motioned for Castiel and Dean to follow.

The three went into the Grand Ballroom. Dean had not been there since he had last fled. He had forgotten how gaudy it was. The red plush velvet chairs, the gold lamé tablecloths, the hip glass chandeliers, the 70's swinger wall decor, it was all there in its Barry White glory. There were only two things that were different. Where there was once an empty space in the horseshoe shaped table, a large block of white marble took up residence. Enochian writing was etched on one side. Hebrew on another. And Latin on another still. Dean guessed that on the side he could not see had Arabic on it. Though he could not read the Hebrew or the Enochian inscriptions, Dean could understood the Latin one and knew that what the other languages said had to be the same.

"_Gabrielus,"_ he read. He stared at the blue shroud that was draped over the block. "This was where Gabriel was rested?"

"Yes," said Sariel.

Dean wandered over to the other thing that was different in the room. Two massive scorched outlines of wings stretched across the wooden floor onto one of the tables. "And this was where he died?"

Sariel closed her eyes feeling her heart sink. _"Yes."_

Dean squatted down to examine the markings. He thought about what Gabriel's last moments must have been like. The younger Archangel standing up to his brother in order to save Sam, Kali and his skin. Gabriel knew that he would be killed. He had to. But still the Archangel stood his ground because Dean had talked him into it. _Gabriel, you were a major pain in my ass but you didn't deserve this. _He rose to his feet and stepped away from the outlines. _I'm sorry._

He turned to Sariel, "Why are we here?"

"To look for clues. I was hoping that somehow, someway with you being Michael's vessel you could tap into something here that I can't."

"Do you feel anything, Dean?" asked Castiel who was eyeing him like he was about to sprout antlers.

"What? No." He looked at Castiel. The Angel was slowly frowning. Only it was not in anger but in soul crushing disappointment. Dean felt like he had just told a child that his puppy was lost and there was nothing he could do about it. He rolled his eyes. _This is stupid. _He closed them anyway. Breathing slowly, he tried to feel out the room with his mind. He had no idea what to expect. A sharp pain. A bolt of shock. A tickle. Anything. Anything with an answer.

Nothing came to him.

Some waste of vessel he was turning out to be.

He opened his eyes. There had to be another way to search for Gabriel if he was actually alive. "You said the meat locker was empty and that Odin was back. Maybe we should talk to the gods that were here to see if they know anything. At least the ones that Gabriel was known to hang around with."

"Gabriel hid as Loki," Castiel said as a light appeared in his eyes. A slight smile of hope grew across his face. "Perhaps we should to talk to Odin again."

Sariel laughed bitterly. "That guy was three sheets to the wind. The most we will get out of him are some old football stories of him going on village raids. He's useless."

Dean held up his hand getting the two's attention. "What about Kali?"

"What about her?" asked Sariel. "She wasn't amongst the dead."

"No, but she was here." Dean started for the door. "Don't move." He ran down the hallway to the front desk. He hoped that the Angels had not messed with the area. They had not. Scattered paperwork littered the work place. The electronic register was still waiting to be used. Pens rested in a cup. Dean found what he wanted on the counter. The guest sign in book. Making his way back to the Ballroom, he flipped through the first few pages. The names read like a who's whom of Olympian mythology. Each god signed their name twice, once for their Greek name and once for their Roman name. Dean ran his fingers down the list. Apparently, Eros was a frequent guest. He flipped towards the back until the familiar Latin and Greek letters stopped and other alphabet characters appeared. Here were the non-Olympian gods. Dean stopped in the middle of the hallway, surprised at what he came across. While the Olympians signed their names using a single uniformed line each, the other gods went all out in their signatures. Some had used fat markers that bled through the paper. Others had signed using huge characters and flourishes that sometimes over took another god's name. A few had actually burned their names into the paper. How they did not manage to burn the whole book was a mystery to Dean.

_It's a pissing contest with signatures. _He found the whole thing ridiculous. _Are they gods or are they thirteen year old boys?_ He remembered what Sariel and Castiel had said about the gods. How they were always fighting amongst themselves. Here was proof positive of that truth.

He found Kali's signature. It was not hard to spot. She had taken up two entire pages with it. She had written her name out in Sanskrit and in Bengali. Then below that she wrote out in English in parenthesis, "Kali: Destroyer of Worlds and Redeemer of the Universe."

_I wonder how her business card looks like, _thought Dean with a smirk.

He walked back into the Ballroom holding the book out to Sariel. "See, here's the guestbook. She signed her name."

Sariel took the book and read Kali's signature. She still did not understand the fuss over the fact that Kali had been at the hotel. "Why should that matter?"

Dean was taken back. He thought it should have been obvious. Then he realized that he had never told anyone every detail of that night when Lucifer had come to the hotel. Only the bare facts of the gods trying to bribe their way out of harm's path, Lucifer showing up and Gabriel fighting him. Dean had forgotten to tell one important fact.

"It matters," he said taking back the book and turning through the pages once more, "because Gabriel, under the disguise of Loki, had a thing with Kali for a while." He stopped at Loki's signature. The strange thing with his name was it had been written like an Olympian name; neatly on a single line. The only thing that separated the two styles was that Gabriel had drawn a smiley face with its tongue sticking out as the dot in the "i". He handed the book back to Sariel pointing out Loki's name. "If there is one thing I know from my years of working cases is that old girlfriends always seem to have the dirt on their exes."

Sariel and Castiel crowded around the book and stared at Loki's name as if they kept on staring a connection would form between them and the ink that would lead them back to Gabriel. When nothing happened, Sariel ripped the page out and tossed the book on one of the red velvet chairs. She ripped the page again, tearing Baldr's name away from her brother's alias. Crumpling up Baldr's signature, she tossed the trash over her shoulder and with great care, slipped Loki's signature into her front pocket.

Dean understood why she had done this. He still had an old post-it note that his mom had scribbled down a grocery list on. He kept the scrap paper in his wallet. Even Sam did not know about that.

He raised his eyebrows. "So, come on. Kali. What do you think?"

"I think you are right but," Sariel pinched the bridge of her nose and growned, "why does it have to be Kali? There are so many gods out there, Gabriel. Why did you pick _her_?"

Dean smirked, "I take it you've met Little Miss Charming."

Sariel gave the man a somber look that read, _Don't ask stupid questions, boy._

"What is wrong with Kali?" asked Castiel, cocking his head. He had never come across the goddess and only knew of her by myths.

Sariel took him by the hand and grabbed Dean by his shoulder. "You'll find out." She pulled them along down the hallway, through the front lobby and back outside. She closed the door. Taking out her Swiss Army knife, she sliced open her hand again and rewrote the spell on the entrance. A crackle of electricity ran up the walls of the building. She healed her hand and slipped it back into Castiel's. She grabbed Dean's shoulder again.

"Now where are we going?" he asked.

"To see Kali." She closed her eyes and shook her head like a disappointed parent. "Honestly, Dean, it was you who suggested it."

Dean curled his lip at Sariel's rudeness. "I know that but where is she?"

"Most likely slumming it at her temple back east, surrounded by her worshippers."

"Hold on, are you saying we are going to _India_?"

"Dakshineswar, specifically."

Dean tried to wiggle free from Sariel's grasp. Leaving his home for some other place in the U.S. was one thing but popping into another country was something different altogether. He did not even own a passport. "No, wait!"

"Too late."

The three vanished.


	4. Chapter 4

NOTE: I don't own Supernatural. Kripke is the father of it all. All hail, Kripke.

Fair warning: Dean, Cas, Sar don't appear in this chapter. I know, I know. But I have to bring in Gabriel. He's part of the story and the plot needs it. (He is the linchpin to this whole thing.) So, here he is. Don't worry, we'll return to Dean's Great World Wide Road Trip in the next chapter.

If you have any questions, ask away. I would love to hear from you.

Thanks for taking the time to read my silly little story.

**CHAPTER FOUR**

He remembered a pain in his side. A sharp burst that spread throughout him. He remembered not feeling scared or angry by it but sad. Profoundly sad. He remembered thinking, _"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you."_

And then the blackness came.

What he did not remember was the voice that found him in the darkness. "Wake up, Gabriel," it said. "Wake up. Your work is not done. My word needs to be delivered." He felt its warm breath, the breath of life, on his cheek. "And know this, out of all of them, you understood me best."

He failed to remember this not because he was incapable. He failed to remember because he did not _want_ to.

He woke up in the back pew of The Church of the Resurrection crying. He could not remember what had made him cry only that as hard as he tried, he could not stop.

Pastor Francis was in the front of the church, sweeping the floor when he heard the crying. He looked up, startled because he was sure that he had locked the entrance doors. "Excuse me." He leaned the broom against a pew and started towards the stranger. "How did you get in? I could have-"

The stranger lifted his gaze at the Pastor. Tears had made his eyes raw red and swollen. He looked utterly helpless, like a broken child.

Pastor halted in his steps. "Son, why are you crying?"

Wiping his eyes with the edges of his sleeve, the stranger shrugged his shoulders. "I-I don't know."

"You don't know?" Pastor sunk to his knees next to the stranger. He placed a gentle hand on the man's leg. "How can you not know? Son, please, tell me, who are you?"

The stranger shrugged again. "I don't know. I can't remember." He leaned back in the pew, covering his face with his hands. The front of his jacket fell open baring his shirt underneath and the dried brown stain that dyed it.

Pastor recognized the stain. _Blood._ He grabbed the edge of the shirt and tugged it taut. There was a hole in the center of the stain. But where the skin peeked through the slit, there was no damage to be found. Only perfectly smooth clean flesh. He looked at the stranger with confusion. _Who are you?_

Pastor called the police. They came and took the stranger to the station. He followed them in his beat up blue Beetle. Something told him to look after the man. He did not know why only that the stranger needed him. Fingerprints and mug shots were taken and scanned in the computer. No match was found. Missing person reports were searched. Anyone fitting the description of a thirty something, white male of medium height and build with hazel eyes and brown hair was combed through and compared to the stranger. Again, nothing matched. Nothing came close.

Frustrated, they interrogated him. But the more the police broiled him under the lights hoping that this was a game on the man's part, the more he claimed his innocence.

"No wallet, no phone, nothing in the computer, nothing on the Internet" said Detective Kenner as he leaned towards the stranger's face. "You are a ghost. Which in this day in age, is impossible." He grabbed the stranger's shirt and pulled the stain up to the man's face, almost ripping the fabric. "Especially when you are going around town in bloody clothing." He yanked the shirt back down and let it go. "If this is a prank and I find out that it is, you are going to be-"

"Enough, Matthew," said Pastor, who had been sitting across from the stranger in the small holding room. He had been watching over the man the whole time hoping that by some miracle the mystery of the stranger would crack. Pastor got up and went around the table to the man. He placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Clearly, he doesn't know anything."

Kenner glared down at the stranger, who was trying his hardest not look back. The detective snorted in disgust. There was something off about the man that Kenner could not put his finger on. He looked up at Pastor and crooked his finger at him. "Can I speak with you outside?"

The two stepped out in the hallway. Kenner closed the door and turned to Pastor. "What are you doing, Frank?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're babysitting this guy. You should be back home at the church getting ready for services tomorrow. We can handle this one without you."

Pastor shook his head. "Clearly, you can't. You're treating him like he has done something wrong."

"He has done something wrong."

"What?"

Kenner frowned and threw a glance back at the room. "I don't know. But I do know that there is something not right about him."

Pastor sighed and rolled his eyes. He started back for the door when Kenner grabbed him by the arm. The two men looked at Kenner's heavy grip. The detective knew he had done something amiss and let go, lifting his hands in peace. He was only trying to help out his friend.

"Frank, what are you going to do?"

"I'm taking him back with me. I have that room upstairs."

"No, Frank." He leaned against the wall and thumped his head on the cement in frustration. "Did you already forget-"

"Matt, stop."

Kenner frowned. "Again, no. You still have a scar above your right eyebrow because the last little angel you took in tried to rob you and stabbed you with a steak knife."

Silent for a moment, Pastor relived that memory in his mind. His heart began to pound in fear. The knife had been small but sharp. Its blade sunk into his flesh, scraping his skull. There was so much blood that his face was a mask of red. Pastor's fingers wandered up to the scar that laid raised against his wrinkled skin. He brushed the front of his silver hair down trying to cover the mark. He readjusted his wire framed glasses trying to bring his mind back into focus in the here and now. "Don't think I have forgotten about that, Matt. But the truth remains, that was one individual. The person in that room there, is another. And he needs me."

He walked around Kenner and stuck his head in the room. The stranger had his arms crossed on the table and his face buried in them. He looked like he was praying. Pastor knocked on the door, "Come on, Eastwood, let's go."

The stranger raised his head. His face twisted in confusion at the name. "Eastwood?"

Pastor smiled a lopsided grin. "You know, as in 'The Man With No Name.' Can't call you by 'that guy' forever, can I?" He snapped the fingers, "Grab your jacket. We're leaving."

Eastwood rose from his seat and took his jacket from the back of his chair. He tossed it on and zipped it up, hiding the blood stain. He made his way towards the door when Kenner stepped into the room in front of Pastor. The detective towered over Eastwood by half a foot. He shoved a big, meaty hand into Eastwood's chest. His fingers spread out like enormous spider legs, holding tightly onto the man.

Leaning down, Kenner glared straight into Eastwood's eyes. There was no love in his scowl. "I want you to know that Pastor Francis is a good friend of mine. A very good friend. And if anything happens to him by you-"

"You'll hunt me down and shoot me like the dog I am," finished Eastwood with a frown. "I know."

Kenner tried to smile. It came off more as a snarl. "Just so we understand each other."

Pastor grabbed Kenner's hand and shoved it down off the man. "Knock it off, Matt." Putting an arm around Eastwood, he guided him out of the room and through the station.

The next stop Pastor Francis took Eastwood to was the Hospital of Saint Raphael. The place was run by the Catholic church and Pastor knew the head of the hospital. He was able to beg and plea for doctors to give Eastwood the once over on their dime. If Eastwood could not remember who he was, perhaps there was something wrong with his brain. An injury that could be hidden away deep beneath the bone. The hospital took pity on the Eastwood. Scans were done of his head but nothing was found. He had a perfectly functioning brain that lit up in all of the right places when stimulated. The only thing askew was that part of his ventral medial prefrontal cortex remained active even when Eastwood was being completely passive in thought. Still, that had nothing to do with memory and they dismissed it as being a fluke. What the doctors did not know was if they had lowered the scan to his ribs, they would have seen the markings on his bones that had hid him from his siblings for so long. But they did not.

They told Eastwood and Pastor that what he most likely had was retrograde amnesia even though the tests came out clean. Most likely it was due to emotional trauma and not physical.

"Is complete amnesia even possible?" asked Eastwood as he sat on the edge of the hospital bed in nothing but his socks, boxers and a rather embarrassing too small dressing gown.

"Technically, anything is possible," said the doctor. He had a fresh from school face and was trying his hardest to look like an authority figure. He was failing miserably. He tapped on the laptop he had placed on the rolling bed table. "But probability? Not really. And, yet, here you are. _Tah Dah!_"

Pastor, who had been sitting next to Eastwood on a stool, tried to get a peek at the screen. "So, what should he do?"

The doctor shut the laptop. "My suggestion? Go home. With amnesia there isn't any pill you can swallow to cure it. All you can do is hope that your memories will come back on their own. Most times they do. Sometimes in fragments. Others in whole waves." He picked up the computer and tucked it under his arm. "Good luck."

He walked out of the room.

Eastwood turned to Pastor with his jaw dropped. He could not believe that snot nosed kid in a white lab coat. "_Good luck? _What sort of bed side manner is that?"

Pastor shrugged. "These days? A typical one."

Despite protesting that the good Samaritan had done enough already, Eastwood went home with Pastor Francis. In the end, Pastor argued that since Eastwood could not even remember his own name let alone where he was from, he had no one else to turn to for help. Pastor did not mean to come across as hurtful when he said this but Eastwood's eyes still went dim and he sank into the bed of the guestroom.

"Why are you doing all of this?"

Pastor pointed to himself, "Man of the cloth, responsibility comes with the job description." He smiled trying to hide the fact that he had partially lied. Yes, he felt that as a pastor he had to do something. But the main truth was that he had never seen anyone cry like the way Eastwood cried back at the church. And the way the stranger simply appeared out of no where even when the doors were locked and him having a stab wound in the shirt but none on the flesh, unsettled Pastor. He wanted an answer. He thought of what Kenner had said. About how he found Eastwood off. Pastor did not feel the same. Eastwood was not a bad omen. He was sure of it. But what the stranger was, only time would reveal that.

Months had past.

Pastor had talked to the his friend, Father Gallagher, who headed St. Anthony's, a Catholic church that was down two blocks from the Methodist church. It was the only Catholic church in town but it had something no one else had, a homeless shelter that also doubled as a soup kitchen. Pastor was able to convince Father to give Eastwood a job despite the man not having a social security number or a legal name.

"He at least has to have a first name, Pastor, before I sign off on this."

Pastor, Eastwood and Father were sitting in the church's office. Pastor studied Eastwood who looked embarrassed that he was still halfway nameless.

"'Jack'," said Pastor. "Put down 'Jack'."

"Why 'Jack'?" asked Eastwood.

"Because since no one in this room knows your history, we really don't know _jack_."

Father groaned, pinching his nose,"Hoo boy, that was bad."

Eastwood smiled widely. "I like it!" He had just discovered that he adored awful puns. "We are going to use that."

He eagerly signed off on the paperwork with his new name; Jack Eastwood.

Soon after, Jack was working at the shelter and the soup kitchen. In the mornings and afternoons, he made sure that the food was ready for the hungry crowds that came through. At night, he assigned rooms to those who were seeking beds. The work was hard. Sometimes Jack loathed that he had to turn away some families due to lack of beds. But he was happy. As happy as someone with no memories of his past could be. Though like the doctor said, some fragments did made their way home to him.

Once he was pouring soup for a young girl in a thread bare pink parka. She looked at him with her eyes that were too large for her thin face and Jack flashed on a memory. An olive skinned girl with the prettiest almond shaped green eyes he had ever seen stared back at him. She looked scared and in awe. Jack remembered telling her that she was with child.

_Am I doctor?_ he thought. The girl was not dressed in Western clothing. _Maybe I am one of those Doctors without Borders guys. _He imagined himself in scrubs. _Nah._

Another time he was helping a child of one of the few families that stayed at the shelter with his homework. As he leaned over the boy showing him that he had the angle measurements wrong, Jack flashed on himself in a cave leaning over a middle aged man in red who smelled of spices. He was whispering into the man's ear and the man in returned wrote down everything Jack was saying. Jack remembered that the man used a stylus rather than a pen and wrote on what appeared to be homemade parchment rather than ruled paper.

_What does that even mean?_ Jack stood up and stepped back from the boy he was tutoring. He hit his own head with the butt of his hand. _Why couldn't I flash on me doing something normal? Like washing my car or cooking dinner. I'd even settle on one of me vegged out on the couch watching Jeopardy. _He frowned. _Who the hell am I?_

"I think I know who you are," said Nobuko.

Jack walked into the shelter's kitchen from the outside. He was carrying an industrial sized garbage can that he had moments before emptied in the dumpster in the back with great difficulty. Even with the can unloaded, carrying it around was an awkward task that was in danger of making him trip. He kicked the door closed behind him, leaving the cold Autumn air behind. Nobuko waddled over and locked it. She leaned against the door, resting her back. Her pregnancy was beating up her little body. Each day she swore the balance of belly to girl was tipping over into the belly's favor.

Jack settled the garbage can back in the corner and washed his hands. Nobuko followed him and leaned against the counter top. "What if you are a Peace Corp volunteer? It would settle right with the flashbacks you've had. Here, let me see your pad."

Reaching into the back pocket of his jeans, Jack pulled out a small pad of paper. He carried it around in case a memory came to him and he needed to write it down. So far, there had been four flashes.

Pushing her Buddy Holly style glasses up on her head like a headband, Nobuko riffled through the papers. "Yeah, it makes sense. Except for the one you had about the farm girl. But maybe you were on vacation then."

Jack doubted that. "I told her she had to take up arms and fight for her country. What sort of Peace Corp volunteer tells that to anyone? Even one that is on vacation. I thought all they did was help build schools and dig wells."

The young girl closed the pad and sighed. That had been her best guess in weeks. She handed the pad back to Jack who took it and slipped it in his pocket.

"Then I am busted. You still remain "Jack Eastwood: International Man of Mystery."

"_Awesome,_" sneered Jack as he took a fun sized Snickers bar from his shirt pocket. He ripped off the wrapper and popped the whole thing in his mouth. This was another thing he had discovered about himself in the last few months. He had a monster of a sweet tooth. There were times where he would go to the the local grocery story buy a couple of bags of candy, plant himself at one of the shelter's dining room tables and eat every last scrap of sweet. Three, four and sometimes even five pounds he could put away in one sitting. The upside to this was another discovery he had made about himself. He had the metabolism of an army of hummingbirds. Because no matter how much sugary junk food he put away, he never gained a pound.

He dug into his pocket again and pulled out another candy bar. He tore into that one. "Kiddo, I appreciate what you are doing but-" he swallowed the bite in his mouth. "-give it a rest. My memories will come when they come."

Nobuko was not satisfied with this. "What if they never come back completely?"

Jack shrugged. He remembered himself crying in the church all of those months ago. "Maybe it's for the best. I'd hate to find out that I am nothing more than some dick who ran away from everything because life became too complicated and he couldn't handle it." He wandered over to the kitchen radio. It was set to a station that was playing The Supremes' "You keep me hangin' on." But at the moment Ross' voice was coming across as more static than song. He fiddled with the knobs. "Besides, I am happy here. And starting next week, I am apprenticing at Sal's garage." He grinned. "I'm going to be a mechanic!"

He settled on a station that was playing The Rolling Stones', "Gimme Shelter." He stepped back and took in the music. It was one of his favorite songs. "Nobuko, my girl, life is good. I am going to enjoy this."

Nobuko frowned. "But what if someone is out there looking for you? What if right now your sister or brother is scouring the Earth searching for you?"

Jack sighed. He knew the girl meant well but these questions from her were becoming a tired daily routine. He understood that she was projecting herself on to him. She, herself, was originally from back west when she was knocked up by a friend of friend who was visiting from back east. Her old fashion Japanese family did not want to have anything to do with her after that. So, she called up her baby's father and he told her if she could make it to the East Coast, she could live with him and they would raise the baby together. She made it as far as Kansas when the boy called her on her cell and told her that he had changed his mind. Now she was stuck in Middle America with no where to turn. That was until, Pastor Francis and Father Gallagher took pity on the teen-aged mother to be. She moved into Pastor's other guestroom and was given a job at the shelter as well. Jack took the girl under his wing and the two developed a brother and sister bond.

Still, she missed her family and wondered if they ever thought of her. Before all of this, she never thought she could have been so disposable.

Turning around and facing the girl, Jack placed his hands on her shoulders. The girl barely came up to his chest. "Kiddo, we've put my face in the papers and on the local news. No one has come for me. No one cares."

"I care." She tried to hug him but her belly got in the way. All she could manage was placing her head on his chest with her arms flopping around him in a clumsy fashion._"Stupid belly."_

Jack laughed at her attempt. He handed her a knife and a pair of carrots. "Come on, the lunch rush is only two hours away. We need to start chopping or else we are going to have a repeat of yesterday."

She took the knife and the carrots. "What if we do an online video of you?"

"_Nobuko."_

"No, seriously," she grabbed a cutting board and slapped it down on the counter. She began to chop away. "What if we aren't thinking big enough. If we can get a metric ton of hits on the video I am sure we can find someone who maybe knows someone who knows you. Hey, maybe we can turn you into a meme."

"What the hell is a meme?"

Pastor Francis stuck his head into the kitchen, "There you are. Guys, can I see you in the dining hall for a moment. I have something to show you."

Jack and Nobuko looked at each other. Jack shrugged. The two headed out of the kitchen. The dining hall was already starting to fill up with people. Most were hoping to beat the rush but some were there because they had nothing better to do. A few played the board games that laid about the hall. A few still were gathered around the television set watching talk shows. Pastor Francis was with Father Gallagher on the other side of the room. They had hung up a massive cork board on the wall. Construction paper letters ran across the top stating, "Angels of St. Anthony." Photographs of people covered everywhere else.

"What's this?" said Jack.

Father tapped the board, "We've decided to raise a board featuring the people who have worked in the shelter over the years. A sort of wall of fame, so to speak."

"Wow," Nobuko leaned in on a photograph of a young woman with pink hair. "All of these people came through here?"

"Yes," said Pastor, "And you are going up on the wall now too." He produced a pocket sized camera. "I want to get a picture of you, two, separately."

Nobuko tried to wrap her arms around herself. Her fingers barely made it around her belly. "Do we have to do it now when I am so big?"

Pastor smiled. "You look beautiful, Nobuko." He turned to Jack, who was intensely staring at one photograph at the board. "Jack, tell Nobuko that she looks beautiful."

Jack did not say anything.

Nobuko turned to him and nudged him in the arm, "What's a matter? Do you think I look like a snake that has swallowed an elephant?"

The man did not answer again. Instead, he removed the photo from the board and brought it closer to himself. His whole body was tensing up as if his emotions were swelling inside of him.

"Jack, what is it?" asked Pastor.

Jack held up the faded Polaroid to the man. The picture was of a family. Two young boys, one short and scrawny, the other taller with freckles and a serious stare, stood in front of their father, a stern faced man with tired eyes and a growing five o'clock shadow. All three looked like they had seen better days. Scrawled along the bottom of the photo in red ink was a date; _September 20, 1992_.

"Who are they?" asked Jack softly.

"Those are the Winchesters. John and his boys, Sam and Dean. Why do you ask?"

Jack stared at the photo, again. "I think I know them..."

Everyone fell quiet with the revelation. Lost in their own heads, no one noticed two men dressed in soiled, brown jackets staring at them from one of the front tables in the room. The taller man with a wild beard turned to his companion, whose hair was matted against his dirt stained forehead. He arched his eyebrows in question. The matted haired man nodded. For a moment, both of their eyes turned black before switching back to brown and green.

They both smiled.


	5. Chapter 5

NOTE: And we are back with Dean, Cas and Sar on their Hope and Crosby worthy world tour.

To answer a question from the comments about the last chapter, Gabriel did indeed give himself amnesia. There's a line that reads, _"He failed to remember because he did not want to."_ Later on, the Doctor remarked that Gabriel's retrograde amnesia was most likely psychosomatic and the result of trauma.

The rest of the questions will be revealed in the up and coming chapters. Yeah, I am a schmuck.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask. And as always, thanks for taking the time read my little story.

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Dean could imagine India being the birthplace of color. Having lived all of his life knee deep in the gloomiest strangleholds the States had to offer, he knew every shade of grey that existed there. Blue-greys. Green-greys. Brown-greys. And his favorite; grey-greys.

But in India, here the world was saturated with hues. He had never seen the sky so blue. He felt like if he tried to touch it, the sky would dye his hand that color. The men and women around him, especially, the women, wrapped in their brilliant saris, looked like living, breathing creatures from an impressionist painting. As if they had strolled off a Van Gogh. Even the Dakshineswar Kali Temple with its warm cream colored walls and its terra cotta red roofs, was a drastic change to the faded brick and chipped paint buildings that Dean was used to.

Dean had to close his eyes because he could swear if he stared any longer his head would explode with over stimulation. He felt a tap on his shoulder. He opened his right eye to see Castiel uncomfortably up close and staring at him with mild curiosity.

Dean leaned back. _Damn_, _even Cas' eyes are bluer here._

"What are you doing?" asked the Angel.

"This place is messing with my head, Cas. Not use to the technocolor lifestyle. You get me?"

Castiel narrowed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "No. I do not '_get you_'."

"You two," Sariel snapped, "Quit your knitting circle and help me search here."

Dean leaned into Castiel's ear, "Your sister's a peach."

"_I heard that."_

The man smiled tightly. "I hoped you did." Dean rubbed his eyes and scanned the area around him. There was a flood of people coming and going as fast and as strong as any current. "Sar, how are we going to find Kali in this Human swarm? How do you know she is even here?"

Sariel craned her neck. "She's here because her worshippers are here. The bigger the crowd the more likely she is in the middle of it basking in the attention." She shot a dirty glance at Dean. "And don't call me 'Sar.'"

Dean pointed at Castiel and shrugged like it was nothing big to get upset over. "I call him 'Cas.'"

"Yeah, and that rhymes with 'ass.'"

Castiel blinked as the truth dawned on him. He had never realized it before. "It does rhyme with 'ass'. _Dean_."

"Don't start with me." Dean turned away from the Angel and went back to picking apart the crowd person by person. He swore by the number of women alone he would be at this for a month. "C'mon, there has to be a better way to find a god in a hoard of Humans other than just standing around and gawking at-_wait_." His eyes lit up. He could not believe it. His hand struck out in front of him, pointing. "There she is."

Castiel and Sariel turned to where Dean was gesturing to. There in the middle of a swirling crowd stood a woman in a navy blue three piece suit. In a mass of people wearing either traditional Indian clothing or loud and tacky tourist gear, she was the only one dressed in a tailored to the teeth business outfit with sensible pumps. She looked like a CEO from a Fortune 500 company. Especially since she had a metal clipboard and was writing numbers down on it.

"That's Kali?" asked Castiel.

Dean nodded. He could never forget her face or the headache she had given him in the Hotel and on the road. "That's her alright. Worst back seat driver _ever_."

"What is she doing?"

Sariel snorted. "Counting her worshippers, no doubt." She started towards the god. "Dean stay behind me. Castiel cover Dean's back. Kali gets pissy whenever someone interrupts her favorite past time."

Castiel grabbed Dean's right arm from the back and place his other hand on his shoulder. Dean hated being man handled but he knew when dealing with a god, any god, it was better to be safe than sorry. He had seen Kali's powers and while there were no match for Lucifer, Dean was sure that they could roast him Cajun style in a flash. He thought of Lisa and Ben for a second and realized that for the first time in he could not remember, he did not want to die. He wanted to live to see them again. The concept left him uneasy.

The two followed Sariel. The crowd parted for her without seemingly noticing her. Not one person looked her in the eye or acted startled as she in her Southern truck stop waitress outfit marched past them.

_Is she putting a spell on them?_ thought Dean as he walked in her wake. Dean would have thought that at least a couple of men would glance to see her parading around in her tiny shorts. But no one did.

Sariel stopped a distance from Kali. She raised her arms and swung them out. The crowd lowered their heads and backed away. The Archangel was indeed doing a spell. She was trying to make sure no Human was in the path of Kali's grasp. The last thing she needed was for Humans to be ripped apart and for their blood to spill on the ground. Kali could used that blood to cast spells. Spells that could destroy the very Earth under their feet which meant that Sariel would have more work to do. Bad enough that she was slacking off on checking on the other sub-pockets to look for Gabriel. At least she could argue with upper management that this was a worthy cause. But if she went around tearing up the lands and causing new problems, someone was not going to be happy. In Heaven, when someone high up was not happy, everyone felt the brunt. She waved her arms again, only harder. People began to flee. There faces were still slack like bored cattle. She walked slowly again towards the god. Her every boot step clicked against the clay street.

Kali noticed her people running. She held down her clipboard and looked around trying to figure out where they were all going to. Turning around, she saw a tall, blond woman with a farmer's tan making a bee line to her as the people around her moved in the opposite direction. The expression on the woman's face was cold and stern like an oncoming tempest. Kali dropped her clipboard and frowned. Westerners meant trouble. Always trouble.

Sariel stopped. "Kali, Destroyer of Worlds and the Redeemer of the Universe, I demand an audience."

Kali bared her teeth. "Who are you to demand from me?" She spotted Dean behind Kali. _"You."_

Dean hesitated on the next step. He caught his breath. Two seconds on meeting the god again and she was already pissed at him. _Always the damn ladies' man, aren't you?_ He swallowed the spit in his mouth. It went down hard in his throat like a spiked stone.

Sariel stepped in front of Kali's line of sight. She bared her own teeth. "Do not ignore me, god. It is _I _who demand from you."

"And, again, _who_ are you?"

"The Archangel, Sariel. Destroyer of Armies, Guardian of Earth, Bringer of Death and Healer of Life. _That's who_."

A flash of fear swept across Kali's face as the memory of Lucifer shot across her mind. Then a blistering anger took its place and remained. "How dare you come here and command me." Flames formed at her fingers tips and licked up her arms.

Sariel threw back her shoulders, taking a fighting stance. The hairs on Dean's arms raised not out of fear but because of the growing electricity in the air. Dean looked around him. The crowds had moved at a distance away from the two beings but not enough for his liking. Those two start fighting, someone was going to get hurt or worse. The man dropped to his knees, breaking free of Castiel's grasp. He bolted across the street and stopped between the two of them. Standing amongst them he realized then that what he was doing was going to make his top ten list of idiot moves of a lifetime. _Screw it. I am already here. _He held his arms out blocking the two from each other. His hands were trembling but he tried to hide his panic by scowling.

"Stop it. No one is fighting. Not here. Not now!"

Kali threw a blazing hand around and seized Dean's right arm. The fire leaped from her and attacked him. Flames devoured his flesh, eating their way up to his shoulder.

Dean screamed.

Castiel appeared behind him and wrapped his arms around Dean's chest. The two vanished to the other side of the street. Dean shoved himself off of Castiel and dropped to ground. The fire raced across his chest like a virus. He rolled around trying to kill it. The flames swallowed up even more of him. Pain was strangling every nerve and shrieking in his face. His hands raked at his flesh. If he could not rid himself of the fire then he would rip off his own skin to stop it from gorging. His nails turned black with burnt skin and then red with the blood underneath.

He never stopped screaming.

Through the flame, Castiel seized Dean's shoulder, holding him still. With his other hand he placed three fingers, the thumb, index and the middle one on the man's forehead. The flames disappeared. Dean was made whole once more without scar.

Dean swept his hands over himself, checking that everything was in order. His clothes had even been mended. His breathing still remained labored as he climbed to his feet. He nodded a 'thank you' at Castiel. The Angel nodded back.

"Is he okay?" yelled Sariel as she looked over.

"Yes," answered Castiel.

Sariel smirked as she returned her glare at Kali. "Well, now that is out of the way."

A shiver went up Kali's spine. The twinkle in the Archangel's eyes spoke of something dark. The god threw back her own shoulders ready for anything.

Almost anything.

Sariel struck out her hand in front of her. Kali's body jerked ram rod straight. The Archangel snapped her hand into a fist. The god's flames snuffed out. Without her fire she looked so ordinary in her no nonsense suit. Sariel threw her arm in the air. Up soared Kali as if she had been fired from a bow. She flew into the heavens until the sky around her was bloated and fat with clouds and the air was as thin as whispers. Sariel dropped to one knee and slammed her fist into the ground. The clay street cracked and collapsed under her touch. Kali came down right after, her skin lighting up with fire not from her will but from speed. She smashed into the street, creating a crater that rippled out, coming almost to Sariel's feet. The sound wave ran through the air and hit Dean square in the chest, knocking him back on his butt. He scrambled onto his feet as fast as he could wanting to see the damage that Sariel had did to Kali.

"Did she kill her?" Dean stood on his toes. "Did she kill Kali?"

Castiel shook his head. "No. Not hardly."

A column of blue fire erupted from the crater. It burned upwards for thirty feet before stopping. Four arms grew out of the flames. The bottom broke into two legs. The rest turned into the shape of a woman. The head took on Kali's form but had twisted into strange differences. Two tusks jutted up and out from her mouth. Her tongue lolled out. A third eye appeared in the center of her forehead right between her eyes. It sat sideways. Slowly, it opened and glared down at the Archangel. She let out a roar that made every piece of metal for blocks vibrate.

"Holy crap." Dean gasped as he stepped back behind Castiel. He looked around him and could not believe that no one else was seeing what he was seeing. But no one was. A couple, laughing, strolled past him. In any other moment, in any other place they were would have been mundane but here Dean found them maddening. He wanted to grab them, shake them and yell, _"How can you not see this!" _

Sariel tssked and rolled her eyes. Kali was always so damn dramatic. The Archangel held her head back taking in the entire god. _"Oh, you are so big. So absolutely huge. Gosh, we're all really impressed down here, I can tell you,"_ she mocked in her best Palin.

Kali snorted in rage. She lifted her arms, ready to fight. Sariel snorted back. Her eyes became wide as her mouth gaped open. Light began to emit from the orifices.

Castiel grabbed Dean by the arm. "Turn your head and cover your ears. Now!"

Dean tried to push off the Angel but Castiel wrestled him to the ground. He shoved his hands over Dean's ears.

"What is it, Cas?" Dean struggled even harder. "What is she doing?"

"Sariel is about to leave her vessel and fight Kali in her Celestial form."

Another couple walked past Dean. They were pushing a carriage. _If Sariel goes from Clark Kent to Superman, these people are going to get creamed._ He shoved an elbow into Castiel's nose as hard as he could. Though there was no pain, the surprise of having an elbow smash into his nose made Castiel fall backward. Dean stumbled up to his feet and ran towards the supernatural beings. He had to stop the fight. He had to. Castiel appeared before him blocking his way.

"Dean."

"Not now." He threw a hard right going for Castiel's nose again.

The Angel caught his hand in mid-flight. "I can not let you be harmed. I promised them."

"I know, I know. I am under Heaven's Watch." He blinked realizing what Castiel had _actually_ said. "Wait, _'them'_? What do you mean by _'them'_?"

Letting go, Castiel's eyes went wide with guilt. He was the kid whose hand was caught in the cookie jar. His mouth fell open but nothing came out.

As much as Dean wanted to give the Angel the third degree, he did not have time for it. He spun on his foot and bolted towards Kali and Sariel. Castiel appeared in front of him again but Dean was ready. He hunkered down low and blew his shoulder into the Angel's stomach, sending him flying sideways. Castiel was not prepared for such an attack. He hit the ground hard. Dean plowed on.

"Sariel," he screamed, "Don't do it . You can't. These people will die if you do."

The Archangel shut her eyes and mouth close. She opened her eyes again and blinked. They were normal. Dean ran up and grabbed her by the shoulders. He panted, gasping for air. It had been a while since he had ran that fast. It had been a while since he had any reason to.

"Please, don't." He swallowed the spit in his mouth and held his breath for a beat before speaking again. "They don't deserve it."

"These people are my worshippers," roared Kali behind him, "They deserve whatever I wish to give to them!"

Dean's fear snapped into anger. "Princess," he twisted around and pointed at the god, "Why don't you beautify the world and shut that trap of yours."

"How dare you!"

"_Oh, I dare_." Adrenaline flooded Dean's system. His heart knocked like a madman. "You see, the last time we crossed paths it was me saving your itty bitty butt. So, you owe me."

Kali snarled, "You only drove me to the airport. Gabriel was the one who save me."

"Then you owe him."

A sadness sparked in Kali's eyes before dying out an instant later. She clenched her teeth. "Gabriel is dead."

"That's up for debate."

The fire god vanished as if someone had doused the flame, leaving Kali's regular body standing alone in the crater. She looked minuscule in the massive hole. Her eyes became big and soft. "_What_?"

Dean gave a half weak smile. "Gabriel might be alive."

"He is alive," corrected Sariel with a growl. She glared at the god, "That's why we are here. To ask you about him."

Kali climbed out of the crater. Dean offered a hand to her in help. She took it. "I thought Lucifer killed Gabriel. Are you saying it was all a trick? Gabriel tricked me again?"

"No, he was dead," Dean turned to Sariel to see Castiel standing next to her. The man hid his start. Angels popping up was always going to wig him out. "Lucifer murdered his little brother without a doubt. But, again, he may be back."

"How do you even know that then?" Disbelief painted Kali. She was still weary of the Angel and the Archangel but somehow her doubt was less with Dean. Perhaps because he was Human and offered less of a threat to her.

"Lucifer went god ganking at the hotel, right? Like he made Odin buy the farm?"

Kali nodded.

"Yeah, well, Odin's back." Dean scratched the back of his neck, "Missy Archangel, here, found his drunk ass, eating apples."

"In Asgard," added Sariel. "And the rest of the gods' bodies as well as Gabriel's vessel are missing."

"Which means they could be back too."

"They were resurrected?" Kali stared at the ground as her mind whirled. She thought about all the gods in the hotel. The blood and gore on the wall and carpeting from their destroyed bodies. All of that had the possibility to be gone? And what about Loki? _No_, she corrected herself. _Gabriel. He was always Gabriel. _She hated Angels as much as she could possibly do so. But he was different. She gave his life for her. She snapped her head up. "Ganesha!"

Spinning around on her heel, She leaped over the crater. She landed on the other side as soft as a cat. Towards the temple, she sprinted. Her worshippers stood aside for her not understanding why they were doing so but simply did.

"Where is she going?" asked Dean.

Sariel grabbed his shoulder. "Move!"

Dean ran after Kali not sure why but with Sariel running ahead of him and Castiel at his rear, he knew that he could not pause to question. Kali stopped at the wall of her temple. She stepped back, eyeing it up and down until she found the spot that she needed. She slapped an open palm against the plaster. Blue fire erupted from the outline of her hand and scurried across the wall. The flames formed a rectangle and stayed steady. Kali jumped into the flame and disappeared.

"She opened a sub-pocket door?" asked Castiel.

"And we are going into that door!" Sariel leaped and soared into the fire. The door swallowed her whole.

Dean halted in his tracks. "Oh, hell no!" He turned around and laid a flat palm against Castiel's chest, giving him a distance. "I just got over being burned a few minutes ago. If you think I am going in-"

Castiel shoved Dean into the door, knocking both of them in. Dean landed hard on the ground but the thick carpet of grass cushioned the blow. Castiel fell on top of him. He rolled off the man and climbed to his feet. He held out his hand to Dean. Dean glared at the Angel and then at his hand. He took it. Pulled to his feet, he pushed a finger into Castiel's face, "Not cool."

"You were taking too long. I helped you out."

"Still not cool." Dean looked at the fire door behind Castiel. It was the only thing he recognized for the temple walls, the clay and stone streets, the constantly walking people, India, herself was gone. Instead, Dean found himself standing in a field surrounded by mountains that stretched up, yawning to the sky. An enormous lake snaked around their feet, separating each of them. Their colors were even brighter than their Indian counterparts. The sky seemed to scream its blue. The grass dared with its green. Even the mountains were bold in their snow capped gold. The aromas were even stronger. Dean smelled mint, ginger, garlic, cummin and other spices that no other Human had smelled before. His stomach growled. He slapped a hand over it, trying to shush it.

Then he noticed something odd. For all of the sensory overload, the place was quiet. Like the cold quiet that comes with a funeral.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Meru." Sariel scanned the world around her, "A most holy of holy lands."

"And this," Kali added, "Is Ganesha's library."

Castiel and Dean turned around to see Kali gesturing in front of her. There, before her in a valley was a white marble open roofed building that Dean could not see the other side of. It stretched off into the vanishing horizon. Columns stood tall and proud around the building. Each wrapped in streaks of gold that shone like starlight in the sun. Between them grew a tree. Their branches were heavy and pregnant with fruit. Their trunks were thick and as solid as battlements. Dean doubted that the most powerful of hurricanes could even move a single branch. From the top looking down, he could see that inside the building held rows and rows of shelves. Each one spilling over with scrolls, papers and books. Every book that had ever been written, every poem that had ever been composed, every song lyric that had been created was held within those columns. A collection of knowledge worthy of the god of wisdom and literature.

_Sam would wet himself over this place_, thought Dean with a smirk.

Kali glanced over her shoulder back at the fire door. "Shiva had closed this section of Meru to everyone when Ganesha died. It was only to be open by Ganesha, himself, or his reincarnation." She smiled. Tears formed at the edges of her eyes. "He's back."

"But where in here?" Dean tried to see if he could spot an elephant down below like he had seen back at the hotel months before. He did not. "That's alot of ground to cover."

Not answering, Kali leaped up and flew towards the library.

Dean was aghast. "She can _fly_?"

Sariel narrowed her eyes in disgust. "Here, she can. And she is not leaving us behind."

She vanished and appeared a hundred yards down the field. Looking up at the sky, she tracked the god's trail and disappeared again only to reappear several hundred yards later right on Kali's tail.

Dean made a motion to run after Sariel only to have Castiel pull him back. The man spun around facing the Angel. "C'mon, they're ditching us!"

Castiel shook his head. "You need protection first."

"Protection? From who? Kali is going bye-bye and Ganesha is God knows where."

"You need protection from the Dakini." He held Dean still with one hand and bit into the thumb of his free hand.

Dean tried to wiggle loose from the Angel's grip as Castiel held up a bloody thumb. "Whoa, stop. What are you going to do with that? And what the hell is the Dakini?"

Castiel sighed. His face took on a tired mask of frustration. "Really, Dean, you should read more books. The Dakini are Kali's servants in this realm. They take on the appearance of beautiful women."

"And I need protection from that?"

"They eat Humans."

"Oh."

Dean heard chattering. His heart began to sink to his feet. He did not have to look to know what was there but he did anyway. Two women were walking across the field. Their bodies jerked and twitched as if Dean was watching them through a strobe light. Save for the gold jewerly that dripped from their necks, wrists, hips and ankles, they were naked. Normally, Dean loved a curvy, nude woman but these had their teeth bared. They were jagged as broken bottles and just as sharp. The women were clicking them and making noises that sounded like song birds. They were talking to each other. By the way they stared at him with wide unblinking eyes, by the way saliva was filling their mouths and spilling over their lips, they were talking about him.

Castiel grabbed Dean by the jaw and made the man face him. He smeared his thumb across Dean's forehead, writing a sigil. Then he laid his hands on the man, sealing the marking. A cold wave swam through Dean's veins. He heard a voice ring in his ears. Though he could not make out the words, he knew it was Castiel's voice.

Dean locked eyes with Castiel, "Did it work?"

The Angel placed a finger to his own lips.

A warm breath tickled Dean's right ear. The man wanted to jerk away but he kept his stare with Castiel. The look on the Angel's face read, _Don't move._

One of the Dakini pressed her nose into Dean's hair and sniffed. She pulled back with a jerk and growled deeply like a dog. The other Dakini snaked up to Dean's cheek. She ran her tongue across his skin, tasting him. A second later she fell back, spitting on the ground. Her teeth began to chatter again. The other Dakini roared like lion. Dean bit his lip, trying to calm his nerves.

Silence came.

Dean's eyes drifted left and right, followed by his head. The Dakini were gone. He looked back at Castiel, "What did you do?"

The Angel raised his eyebrows. "The marking on your forehead masks your scent and taste with my own."

"Are you saying-?"

"You taste and smell like an Angel." He leaned in like he was sharing a secret with Dean. "We are not very appealing to the Dakini."

"Great," Dean rolled his eyes. "I am wearing _Eu De Cas._" He paused realizing what he had just said. _How do I even know that phrase? _Lisa was rubbing off on him more than he knew.

"You, two."

Castiel and Dean turned to see Sariel standing before them with her arms planted on her hips and her mouth twisted in a frown.

"Why are you standing arou-" She sniffed the air like she smelled something rotten and dying. Grabbing Dean by his jacket, she tugged his sleeve to her nose. "Why do you smell like Castiel?" She spotted the marking on Dean's forehead and raised an eyebrow.

"The Dakini," started Dean but Sariel waved him off.

She took Castiel's hand. "Bro, you need to wash that trench more than once in never."

The three vanished from the field and arrived in the middle of a congregation of aisles. Every millimeter of shelf space was crammed with books. For most of the books, Dean could not read the titles because they were not in English. But a few were. He reached for a copy of _Good Omens_ when Sariel grabbed his hand.

"Don't mess with Ganesha's order."

Dean scanned the shelves. The place was chaos as books were shoved in each and every way. Some of the smaller novellas had actually been slipped in between the pages of larger novels. Dean shoved his hands into his pockets. _This is order?_

"Where's Kali?" asked Castiel.

Sariel scanned around her. "She was here a moment ago. I just popped out to get you, two." She cupped her hands around her mouth. "Kali!"

"I am here," a voice yelled back.

The Archangel followed the trail of the voice. Dean and Castiel stayed at her feet. They went through row after row of shelves, feeling like mice in a maze as they did so. Up ahead they saw the last stack of shelves. It gave way to a small field. The library's marble floors formed an open circle. Blades of grass grew over and rested on the tiles. Two trees with winding branches stood in the middle of the field. A massive wooden desk with ivory inlay rested in the crook between them. All around laid fruit and vegetables. A feast large enough to feed an empire. Every last piece was untouched. On the desk rested dozens of rolled scrolls. On either side of the desk, piled up high were their siblings. Too numerous to count.

Behind the desk, sitting on a small mountain of cushions sat Ganesha writing. Only he did not look the same as Dean had remembered. Gone was his rotund belly and soft, fleshy cheeks. He had lost almost all of his fat making his elbows and wrist bones knobby. His robe hung open allowing his chest to peek out. Dean could count the ribs leaning against his skin. Despite everyone gawking at him, Ganesha did not look up from his work. His quill scratched along the parchment, going back and forth like a perpetual typewriter.

"What happened to him?" asked Dean.

Kali hit the desk with her palm. "Ganesha."

The god did not stir. He lifted the quill and dipped it into the ink well. He resumed writing.

Again, Kali hit the desk only with her fist. "GANESHA!"

Ganesha remained tuned to his duty.

Spinning around, Kali grabbed Sariel by her throat and lifted the Archangel off the ground, "What have your kind done to him?"

"Let the Archangel go, _Kalika_."

Kali dropped Sariel and turned to the god at the desk. Ganesha was still writing. Only his eyes had lifted up from his works and caught his fellow god's eyes. "They have not harmed me. I sit here, merely doing what I was called back for. To write down my witnessing and I must finish it."

Leaning over the desk, Kali rested her head against Ganesha's hollowed cheek. She wanted to cry. Whether out of joy of having Ganesha back after seeing his butchered body in the hotel's hallway or out of sadness that he sat behind the desk weak and emanciated, she did not know. Such feelings were alien to her. Usually, anger, pride and lust filled her days. She stood up and took a scroll. She unrolled it. "And what have you witnessed?"

"A miracle. The resurrection of the gods."

"By whom?"

Ganesha gestured towards Castiel and Sariel, "By their father."

Shocked, Sariel snatched up one of the scrolls from the ground. She unrolled it. The words were written in Tagalog but she could read them. She could read anything. Her eyes scanned the parchment for a moment. Her shoulders went slack with awe. "And lo! I heard the voice of God whisper upon my person," she began to translate, "and it did spake, _"Rise up, for I have returned you from the darkness so that you may behold what I shall do. Take your quill and your ink and record all that gives birth here for that it may be known throughout the land and time." _

The Archangel held the scroll against her chest. Her head was a storm of crashing thoughts. She turned to her brother who had the same confused and bewildered expression slapped across his face. "Castiel, do you know what this means?"

"Yes. I do."

Dean held his hand up, "I don't. In fact, I don't have a freakin' clue to what is going on at all."

"Ganesha," said Castiel, "is an Apostle."


	6. Chapter 6

NOTE: And we return to Jack aka Gabriel. Sorry, Dean, you will be back next chapter. Just try to be civil with Kali, will ya.

Kripke owns everything Supernatural. All hail, Hypnotoad. No, wait...

To answer a question from the last chapter; Cas made the promise to Bobby and Sam, mostly Bobby, when he said that he would die before Dean did. To which Bobby replied, "Then go, you, son of a bitch." Cas is a horrible liar.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask. In fact, please do. I feel like I am throwing so many characters into this story that even I have to take notes about who says what and why. And I already know how this thing is going to end. (_In tears_, as if there is any question. This is Supernatural after all.)

As always, thanks for reading this silly little story.

* * *

**CHAPTER SIX**

"Pastor, from where do you know the Winchesters from?" asked Jack.

A strange look came across Pastor Francis' face as if he was not sure what to speak next. "I had an..._infestation _problem back then. John Winchester, the eldest in the picture, showed up out of the blue and said he could take care of it. And he did. He and the boys stayed with me for a week afterward. Came back twice after that. Both times John dropped off Sam and Dean for a week or so while he did a job." He took the photograph that Jack was still holding. He stared at the young Winchester boys. "I used to make Sam and Dean slave in the shelter. You have never seen two boys work so hard."

He sighed handing back the photo. "I haven't seen them in about sixteen years."

Jack slipped the picture into his back pocket. "Do you have a number where they can be reached?"

Pastor shook his head. "This was before cell phones were everywhere." He snapped his fingers, "But John did leave me a number to call if any other _problems_ came up." Pastor turned to Father Gallagher. "Do you still have that Bible I gave you or did you ditch it?"

Father raised an eyebrow, "Pastor."

"Yes?"

"You are asking a Catholic Priest if he junked a Bible like it was Tuesday's trash."

Pastor thought about that for a moment before coming to the conclusion that what he had said was one of the stupidest statements he had ever made. "Right. Good, then. Where is it?"

"In my office." Father started to make his way through the rows of tables.

Everyone followed. They walked into a large, pristine office where a young priest was manning the phones with one hand and going over the bills with the other. Father nodded at him. The young priest nodded back. Father walked around the last desk in the room. It was sitting next to a gigantic glass window. A bright shaft of light was shining down on the papers, making everything glow with an almost halo. Pastor's Bible was resting on the corner on top of a dictionary of Saints. Father grabbed the book and handed it to Pastor. He took the Bible and began to flip backwards. There were lined blank sheets of paper in the back of the book for notes. Pastor had used those sheets as a make-shift phonebook. He ran his fingers down the numbers.

"Here we go." He put the book down and took out his cell phone. "John left a number to some place called "Harvelle's Roadhouse". Maybe they will have a number to contact him."

He dialed.

Jack broke out a face aching grin. He knew that he had said that he did not care about his past a short while ago but deep down, he was still curious. He looked over at Nobuko, hoping she was sharing his excitement. But she was not. A worried frown wore on her face.

"What's wrong, kiddo?"

Her cheeks burned like lit scarlet. "I want you to find your family but..."

"But what?"

She squished her eyes closed, not wanting to face the man she had grown so close to. In one breath she spat, "You are going to find your family and you are going to leave. And I-"

"Wow, you're silly," Jack interrupted.

The girl opened one eye in shock. She found herself staring deep into Jack's unamused glower. He pried open Nobuko's other closed eye and thumped her gently on her forehead.

"Do you actually think the moment I reunite with who ever is in my past I am going to go, 'So long, Screwy, see you in Saint Louie'?"

Nobuko bit her lip and stared at her polished shoes. She barely made the effort to shrug.

Tossing his head back, Jack sighed. "Give me some credit here." He took the girl by the shoulders, "We may not share DNA but you are my family. Everyone here is family. And I don't know if the past me was the type of dick who just ditched people but the guy who is talking to you right here and now, is not. Besides, kiddo ," he rubbed the Nobuko's belly, "that boy of yours is going to be my Godson. And someone needs to teach him how to have good taste in music because, Nobuko, dear, yours... Seriously, who in this day and age willfully listens to disco?"

Nobuko smacked his chest. "It's not disco. It's _electro_. There is a difference."

The two shared a smile.

"The number's no good," said Pastor as he shut his phone close. "It's no longer in service."

"And there goes that." Jack plopped down in one of the overstuffed office chairs. "Nice try though, Pastor. Maybe it wasn't meant to be."

"Oh, you are not going to give up that easily, Jack." Nobuko took a seat behind Father's desk. "There's more than one way to skin a proverbial cat. Father, may I use your laptop?"

Father nodded. He unhooked his leather satchel and slipped his computer out of it. He opened the laptop up and pressed a few keys until he was able to get a connection. The machine hummed ready for use.

The girl cracked her knuckles. "Maybe I can find the Winchesters online."

Pastor was impressed. "Do you think you can actually do that, Nobuko?"

"I am a Millennial. We are born Saint Anthony's of the Internet. If it's on the web, I can find it."

Jack grinned as he leaned across the desk. "Then onward Christian soldier. Let's see what you can do."

With a nod and the tip of her tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth, the girl began to click away at the keyboard. She hit "enter" and sat back. She was shocked by the results. "There are over a hundred and fifty thousand hits for these guys. Are they famous or something 'cause I've never heard of them before." She read the first link, "Oh, Sam has a wiki page. Hold on." She clicked on the link and read. Her brow wrinkled in confusion.

"What is it?" asked Jack who got up and went around to look at the screen. He scanned the page. "'_The Winchesters are part of a fictional family of._..what?_ Demon, ghost and vampire hunters in the book series, Supernatural by Chuck Shurley, who writes under the pen name, Carver Edlund. The last name, Winchester, which has never been mentioned in the books, was indeed confirmed by ex-girlfriend, Becky Rosen, and confirmed again at the first Supernatural convention in Chicago by the writer, himself." _He looked over his shoulder at Pastor who had a disturbed expression on his face. "Did those guys give you a fake name?"

"They couldn't have," said Nobuko as she scrolled up on the page. "The books only started coming out back in mid '05. That photo on board is from '92. It has to be a coincidence."

Pastor was still frowning but he did not say anything. _Has someone been writing about the boys? Do they even know about this?_ He wanted to dive deeper into the books but knew that would only raise more questions from Jack and the others. Questions that he really did not want to answer. Like what exactly had been his _infestation_ problem? How does one even start explaining ghouls?

Jack stood up and scratched his head. "Nobuko, how about looking for them on a social networking site or a forum."

The girl backtracked out of the page. "It's a start." She edited her search and hit "enter" again. The hits went down in half but still there were tens of thousands of pages to search through. She dug into her pocket and pulled out a hair band. Pulling her hair back, she made herself a ponytail. This was her serious look. She scrolled down the result page and began to read off what she had found. "'_The Sam and Dean Extreme Fan site._ Nope. _Supernatural; We are in it for the hot boys. _Uh-uh. _The Win'cest Mpreg Forum_. Now that's deeply disturbing."

"What's '_Win'cest_?" asked Jack.

"What's '_Mpreg'_?" asked Father.

Nobuko leaned back, throwing her head up at the two, "For your sanity and my breakfast, don't ask." She returned to the computer. "Ah, this seems promising." She lightly tapped the screen. "Check this out. There's an argument going on about The Winchesters in this one forum. Someone says that they are real and they are...oh."

"_Oh_?" asked Jack as he looked at the text. "And they are '_douchebags'._ Nice. What site is that?"

"_Ghostfacers_. I think they're sort of like that Syfy show, _Ghost Hunters. _Should we look into it?"

Father nodded. "It's worth a shot. Anyone that angry at someone might know them personally."

"Yeah, but these Winchesters seem to be into the supernatural and not pest control." She turned to Pastor. "Does that sound like the Winchesters you know, Pastor?"

Pastor pointed at the screen. He really did not want to get into it. "Click the link, Nobuko."

Nobuko obeyed. Everyone closed in around the screen and read the argument. A few people made posts about the Ghostfacers constant bashing of the Winchester brothers in their videos. The commenters, who were fans of the Supernatural books, felt that the Ghostfacers were mocking them unfairly. Heads on silver platters were demanded.

"Man," said Jack, "you do not want to cross those Supernatural fangirls."

Nobuko hushed him as she read on. The Ghostfacers counter argued, swearing that they were not talking about the book Winchesters but the real ones. They had met the pair and had _worked _with them on a ghost hunting case. Though in parenthesises, one of the Ghostfacers sneered, "All they did was get their asses kicked. We saved them!"

To which another Ghostfacer commented, "Well, it was actually Corbett who did it."

"Dude, he is one of us," came the reply.

"Was one of us."

"Fine, was one of us. And still is in the great beyond."

"R.I.P. Corbett."

"We're pouring a 40 in your honor, dude."

"Totally."

Jack stood up. He made a face. "Are these guys morons?"

"Morons or not," said Nobuko as she clicked on one of the Ghostfacer's profile. "They do seem to know the brothers." A picture of a man in glasses wearing a smoking jacket while sitting in an overstuffed chair by a fireplace came up. To the right of the picture was his name; _Ed_. "Still, this guy is wearing an ascot. So, again, he probably is a moron."

Nobuko scrolled down the profile. There was a blinking icon at the very end indicating that Ed could be chatted with live at the moment. "He's online. Should I contact him?"

"Yes!" shouted Jack. He took out a candy bar from his pocket and stuffed it into his mouth, trying to quell his excitement. "Go for it."

With another click, the girl opened a chat window. Under the name "anon102" she wrote, "Hello."

A moment later Ed wrote back, "Hello, fellow Facer."

Everyone in the room let out a little cheer. Nobuko's hands began to shake, "What should I write? What should I write?"

Pastor scratched his chin, "Tell him who you are and that you are looking for the Winchester family."

"But tell them that you are not another book fan," added Father, "You are actually looking for the real Sam, Dean and John."

"And tell them about me," said Jack as he patted the girl on the shoulder.

Nobuko waved her arms, clearing the air. "Gentlemen, one at a time. I can only type so fast." She stuck her tongue back out the side of her mouth and began to write. "I am looking for The Winchesters. The real ones. Not the book ones. My name is Nobuko Watanabe and my friend needs their help. Do you have any way I can reach them?"

She cleared her hands from the keyboard and rested them on her belly. All eyes stared at the window waiting for a reply.

A minute passed when Ed finally wrote back. "Is this a joke? Did Tim put you up to this?"

Jack groaned. "He thinks we're pranking him. Great. He's not going to help out."

Throwing an arm behind her, Nobuko covered Jack's mouth and hushed him. She nibbled at her lip. "Father, do you have Skype? I thought I had seen you used it when you were talking to Archbishop Naumann last month about the new church blessing up north."

"Yes. I do."

"Awesome." She leaned back towards the keyboard. Her belly rubbing against the desk. She typed, "Do you have Skype? I'll prove to you who I am."

Ed wrote back that he did and gave her his Skype name. Nobuko brought up the page and connected. A moment later the man who was once sitting by a fire while wearing an ascot was now staring at her while wearing a _Fight Club_ t-shirt with a Twizzler hanging out his mouth. Another young man, dark haired and in a black jacket covered with band and sci-fi pins sat next to him.

"Holy crap, it's actually a girl and not some naked dude again," said the young man. "A pretty girl. Hello, pretty girl with..." he looked at Father and Pastor in their vestments. His face went milk white. "priests. I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to flirt. I mean..."

Ed removed the candy from his lips and smacked the man in the chest. "Shut up, Harry." He turned back to the screen. "It's not every day men of the cloth ask for help from me and my crew. So, Padres," he pressed his hands together, making a temple with his fingers, "you are looking for the Winchesters. May I ask why?"

Jack raised his hand. "It's for me. I think the Winchesters may know who I am."

Ed arched an eyebrow. "And why should that matter?"

"Because long story short, I've lost my memory and I need it back."

The two Ghostfacers stared at the screen with screwed up faces that screamed with disbelief. Nobuko jolted up with eyes as wide as moons. "Guys, the baby just did a Highland jig on my bladder. Pregnant chick has got to go." With the grace of a drunk, she rose from her chair with the help of Pastor and Jack. Ed and Harry watched as her belly came on screen and swallowed up the entire picture. Harry felt even worse having flirted with her a few minutes ago.

Nobuko waddled out of the office. "Take notes, fellas. I will be quizzing." She made her way down the corridor. Her eye caught a homeless man standing in the hallway reading a bulletin board. He looked over at her. Their gazes locked. A shiver raced throughout the girl's body but she did not understand why. Quickly, turning her head, she went into the ladies' room trying to leave the image of the grizzled man in the dirty coat behind.

Out in the hallway, the man grinned his snaggled tooth smirk. He shuffled back in his worn out boots to the janitor's closet. After knocking twice, he snuck into the tiny walk-in space. The other homeless person that he had been with in the dining hall was sitting on the floor. He had his arms around the waist of a woman janitor. Her throat had been sliced open and he was milking her for every drop of blood he could squeeze out. The thick, frothy liquid dribbled into a chalice that was resting between his thighs. The last drops trickled out as the matted hair man shoved the corpse off of him and under a pile of toilet paper. He closed over the chalice as his green eyes became choked in black. He spoke the words that linked him to the other side and held still for a response.

A voice, sweet and cold, began to swim around in his head. Caressing his thoughts and whispering into the deep pit that the demon hid within the Human shell.

"We have located the girl and she is still with _the_ child," the matted hair man said.

The voice was pleased. It whispered on.

The man nodded. "I understand. No harm will come to the girl until you are able to return here. But we will make sure she does not leave the building." A frown came over the man, "However, the girl lives with a pastor and she is watched over by a priest."

The voice growled and continued.

"No, I have not seen any signs of Angels or Archangels near here. Perhaps they are not aware of-"

The voice snapped.

The man cast his eyes away from the chalice in shame. "Yes, Lord. We will be careful."

The voice vanished. The matted hair man shook his head clearing the lovely fog from his mind. His black eyes gave back to green. He looked up to his companion. "You understood that one sided conversation from Harut, right?"

The bearded man snarled. He kicked the corpse making the body spill rolls of toilet paper all over the floor. "Yep. It's going to be a long day."

Jack ran his hand through his hair out of frustration. "Look, we are not fanboys. We have not even heard of this books series before ten minutes ago. And besides, are you calling a priest and a pastor a pair of liars?"

Harry began to wave his hands in front of him in defense. "No, we're not doing that at all. Come on, I don't want to go to Hell here."

"I don't think they would send you to Hell just for calling a priest and a pastor liars," said Ed. "At least I don't remember that lesson in Sunday school."

Father rubbed his eye and sighed. "No one is going to Hell. All we want is a way to contact the Winchester family. A simple yes or no to the question, _can you help us_, would be greatly appreciated."

Ed and Harry grew quiet. They shot glances as each other. Ed leaned into Harry's ear and whispered something. Harry shook his head and leaned back into Ed's ear and returned whispered.

Jack rolled his eyes at the ceiling. He had never met anyone so mind numbingly headache inducing as these two yahoos. He was about to click the call out and cry defeat when he remembered the picture in his back pocket. He slipped it out and brought the photo up to the laptop camera. He whistled.

The two Ghostfacers broke away from their private conversation and gave their attention to the photo. There was something familiar about the family in the picture but they could not place their finger on what it was exactly.

"Who are they?" asked Ed.

"A Polaroid of the Winchesters from '92. No common fanboy would have this. Only someone who knew them personally." Jack smiled trying to build trust. "Guys, we are not fans. Just some old friends who have lost touch with them and are trying to track them down."

Ed and Harry burst out laughing.

"Look at them!" Ed wiped a tear away from his eye. "They were geeks!"

"And if that is Dean because he still wears that dumb-ass necklace then that must be Sam." Harry clapped his hands in glee. "God, what a wimp he was. I could kick that kid's ass easy. Hey, Ed, couldn't I kick that kid's ass?"

"Oh, there's no question. And that guy in the back must be big bad Daddy Winchester." Harry stopped laughing and cleared his throat. "Now he looks like he could kick my ass."

"He is an ex-Marine," said Pastor with a bit of grit in his voice. "And he's real handy with a rifle."

Ed started to cough in shame and horror. Harry tried to avoid the gaze of the camera as he straightened out the things that sat around his computer. He moved to fiddling around with the pins on his jacket, overly polishing one that read, "_FRAK THIS_!"

"So," he began dropping the pin and the jacket behind. "I think we have a number you can use to get in touch with at least the brothers."

Jack put away the photo. "Thank you," he sighed dropping his head in release.

Grabbing a Sharpie, Harry scribbled down a number on his palm. He held it up to the screen. "Can you read this?"

Pastor snatched up a pen and a memo pad. He nodded as he jotted down the number.

Harry dropped his hand back down. "Honestly, I don't know how good that number is any more. We haven't used it in a while. See, Sam gave it to us to call if we came across anything big and bad that we couldn't handle."

Ed snorted. "Like they are so much better than us." He leaned into the camera. "Anyway, we kinda spam his voice mail with inappropriate sound bites from certain..._movies._"

"Casa Erotica and its sequels," interrupted Harry.

Ed closed his eyes and winced. "Thanks ever so much for that." He opened them again, "Like I said, we did that for a few weeks."

Harry grinned. "It was fun."

Tired of the quips, Ed seized the arm of Harry's rolling chair and pushed him off camera. The hooded Ghostfacer sailed out of sight. Only the sound of his wheels spinning could be heard. Then came the crash. It was loud, glorious and involved shattering glass. Ed made a face at the scene that Pastor, Father and Jack could not see.

"Hey, are you alright?"

"I'm good," Harry whimpered.

Shaking his head again, Ed continued. "So, again, given the beating we gave to his mail, that number may or may not be good. But it's the only one we've got."

Pastor held up the newly written memo. "We'll take it." He came close to the camera. "Thank you for your help, boys."

"No problem, Padre. Anytime we can fight the good fight, right?

"I think you are misquoting _Angel_ now," said Harry who was still off camera.

Turning to the disembodied voice, Ed threw a paper clip, "I am not." He went back to the computer. "Bye." He closed the window ending the Skype conversation.

Pastor, Father and Jack stood in silence for a moment before Jack hit his forehead in a groan.

"Can you believe those guys?" He shook his head trying to free their stupidity from himself.

Pastor took out his cell phone again. "At least we have a number." He hit green and began to dial.

The number went through and a voice began to speak. "This is Sam. Leave a message and I will get back to you." Pastor blinked in shock. Sam sounded remarkably like his old man.

An electronic voice followed telling Pastor to press one if he wanted to leave a message. He did so. The recording started. "Sam, I don't know if you will remember me but this is Pastor Francis of The Church of the Resurrection in Leafwood, Kansas. I know it has been over fifteen years since your family and I last met but if you could, please call me. I need your family's assistance again. Thanks."

He ended the message and slipped the phone back into pocket. "I hope he answers back."

Jack crossed his arms and sighed. "You and me both, Pastor. Now, I've got to get back to the kitchen. Someone needs to chop those vegetables."

Pastor threw an arm around Jack's shoulders. "I'll lend a hand since you are down a man with Nobuko. When my sister was preg-"

Pastor's cell phone rang.

The two men looked at each in startled amazement. _It couldn't be, _both their minds spoke in sync. Pastor had only made that message a moment ago.

"Answer the phone!" shouted Father.

With shaking hands, Pastor took out his cell. He read the number calling. It was unlisted. He pressed the green button.

"Hello?"

"This is Sam Winchester. Is this Pastor Francis?"

"Yes." Pastor's voice cracked.

"Pastor, yeah, I remember who you are. How can I help you?"


	7. Chapter 7

NOTE: All things belong to the great and powerful Kripke. I am but a humble serf.

And we are back with Dean who is being dragged along like a three year old. Yes, he misses his Impala on this road trip.

The Waffle Town mentioned in this chapter does actually exist. (It just happens to be in my old hometown.) Their waffles are delicious.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask! And as always, thanks for reading this silly story of mine.

* * *

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

"_An Apostle_," said Kali. Heat waves began to dance off of her skin. A thin coat of flames burst into being. "You Westeners, with your guile. You think all of us must bow down to your Judeo-Christrian dogma."

Sariel's eyes became narrow slits of disgust. She snapped her fingers killing Kali's fire. "Before you go on any further and make yourself sound like a bigger idiot than you already are, let's clear up two things." She held up one finger. "One; It's Judeo-Christian-Islamic. Everyone forgets Islam. And we, Angels and Archangels, are practically having a parade through the Koran." She held up a second finger. "Two; my kin, we are _so_ beyond religion. That's a Human construct meant to help their little primate heads wrap around what and who we are. But we, Angels, Archangels and everything in between, are older than the concept of organized belief. Older than Humans, themselves. And when the lights go out around this place. When the last star is snuffed into oblivion, you better believe that it will be an Angel who will put up the 'Closed' sign and lock the shop."

Sariel stepped up to Kali until she was within breathing room of her. "Make no mistake, god, we made the fan club. The fan club did not make us."

The two stared at each other for a minute. Dean's stomach twisted into uncomfortable knots that were threatening to turn into an ulcer. "Do something," he whispered to Castiel through clenched teeth, "before they start fighting again."

Castiel's eyes drifted from Dean to the women and back to Dean again. Dean was right. The two were going to have it out if he did not step in. The animosity between the two was thicker than lead. "Sariel, Father made him this way so he is part of our responsibility."

The Archangel spun and glared at her brother. Castiel's eyes remained soft. 'He is starving because his duty compels him to finish. He must finish. You know that."

"And what am I supposed to do? He wouldn't be the first Apostle to die on a mission. Hell, that one set of twelve dropped like flies left and right. We just allowed them."

"Ganesha is going to die? Again?" Kali bared her teeth in fury but placed a gentle hand on the Apostle god's shoulder. "Why did your Father bring him back only to let him die? What kind of monster is he?"

Sariel and Castiel snapped their heads at Kali. The utter fury on their faces made Kali's heart sink to her feet. Even Dean felt an icy stab of fear strike him as he caught their looks. He turned to the startled god. "Take it from me, princess, you do not want to go around bad mouthing their family. They don't take it too kindly."

A trembling came over the god. She buried it deep within her, averting her sight to the scrolls. She took one. There had to be a way to reason with the Angels. She only discovered Ganesha again. She did not want to lose him again. Perhaps the answer was in the parchment. "If he dies before his mission is done, what happens?"

Sariel's face grew slightly passive. Still there was a sharpness in her eyes that kept Kali cautious. "That particular mission goes unfinished. But the word, Father's word, always manages to find a way to come to light."

"But that must be difficult though." She tapped the scroll against her chest. "Wouldn't it be easier to keep the Apostle alive so that he could finish rather than repeating the process of finding a new one?"

Dean sighed. He was growing tired of the tip toeing. "Look, she wants to know if you can stop her friend, here, from dying. And, normally, I would be full on "I don't give a crap" mode but, come on, this isn't fair, is it? Cas, like you said, he's starving. I can't believe I am saying this but can you help him?"

Castiel looked at her sister. She shrugged. "Live. Die. Don't give a toss. He's not the resurrected one that I am looking for. But if you want to give it a go, you can, as long as you make it quick."

The Angel nodded. He vanished.

"Where did he go?" asked Dean.

Sariel curled her lip. "Do I look like I have Castiel on Lo-Jack?"

Dean was about to come back with a not so witty snarl when Castiel reappeared. He was standing next to a massive iron cauldron with his hand grasping the lip.

Kali walked around the metal bowl. "What is this?"

Castiel took out a pouch from his pocket. "Dagda's Cauldron of Plenty."

"Dagda? The Tuatha De Danann god?"

"Yes," Castiel gave a little smile. "He allowed me to borrow it. Not every god hates Angels."

Dean thumped the side. The iron sang. "So, it's a god's good cookware. Why did you bring it?"

"He brought because my little brother is a genius." Sariel ran up to Castiel, grabbed him by the head and kissed it. Castiel blinked in shock. She then took the pouch. "Does this contain what I think it contains?"

Castiel nodded.

Undoing the leather strap that kept the bag close, Sariel poured the contents onto her hand. A few minuscule grains nestled in the cup of her palm. She grinned at the sight of them. "Dean, Dagda's cauldron has this ability to refill itself. For example, you put a drop of beer in it, in less than a minute you have beer foaming right to the top."

Dean looked impressed. "That's nifty trick. So, what's that you got in your hand there?"

"The only thing a spellbound Apostle will stop to eat because it comes straight from Father, Himself. _Manna_."

"Wait." Dean leaned into the Archangel for a better look at the grains. "You mean, the falling from the sky in the Old Testament, _Manna _Manna?"

Sariel nodded. She tilted her hand over the cauldron allowing the Manna to fall into the belly of iron bowl.

Kali folded her arms. "I am not going to feed that to Ganesha. No food from your kind can be good."

"It's either that or he starves," Sariel handed back the pouch to Castiel. "Either way, it's on you."

The god made a tight lip grimace. She knew that the Archangel was right. She did not have the power to break Ganesha from God's hold. And as long as he was under, she would have to follow the rules of the Angels. She leaned it and examined the grains. The bottom was already filling up. Each grain was splitting into twin grains. Then those grains were each splitting into a pair of its own. The smell of honey and milk wafted around the group. She reached down to dip her finger into the food to try a taste to see if it was indeed safe to eat. A force shoved her to the side, knocking her to the floor. She glared up to see who dared to do such a thing. Ganesha was bent over the cauldron in the spot where she had only stood a second ago. Half his body was in the bowl. His face buried in the Manna was eating away. Noisy, sloppy gulps of food went down his throat. He could not help himself. Every bit of him was screaming for him to eat. For the first time since he was resurrected he actually felt hunger.

Kali climbed to her feet. She rushed to the god's side only for Sariel to block Kali with her outstretched arm. The Archangel stared without expression into Kali's eyes. "It's okay. This is how it works. He will feed himself for a few minutes and then go back to writing."

"And what about drink?" Kali watched on as Ganesha was now shoveling fistfuls of Manna into his gaping mouth. "He needs something to wash it down."

"No, he doesn't. The Manna will not dry him out but nourish him as well." She took the scroll from the god. "Let him eat. We need to look through these scrolls. Perhaps one will tell us what happened to Gabriel."

Dean picked up a scroll and unrolled it. Chinese characters ran up and down the scroll. "I can't read this."

Sariel took the parchment and handed it to Castiel. He took it. "Then give it to someone who can."

Taking another scroll from the mound that spilled over the side, she placed it in Dean's hands. "There are scrolls in English here. Keep looking."

Dean unrolled his scroll. _Russian. _He tossed it back into the heap. Everyone else began to do the same thing. Even Kali, though she maintained one eye on Ganesha who was still gorging on Manna.

"Mercury is alive." Castiel turned the scroll around and held it up.

Kali, Sariel and Dean drew closer to read the writing. The words were in Sanskrit. The two women nodded their heads having had taken in the story of God bringing the Olympian back to life and sending him back home. Dean shook his head, wishing someone would translate for him. He hated being mostly monolingual. Even his Latin was piss poor. He snatched up a scroll, praying that it would be in English. It was in German. But something did make Dean pause. Two names were written down. Two names that he understood in the mass of nonsense.

_Sam and Adam_.

His eyes glanced up over the edge of the parchment at everyone. Kali and Castiel were still examining scrolls. Their sight was so focused that the world was an uninteresting blur around them. Sariel was on her knees under the desk, fishing for a stray scroll. No one was paying attention to him. Dean knew that on his own he could not translate the story but with his new library card in his pocket that Lisa had helped his achieve and a huge foreign language section there that was bursting with English to German and German to English dictionaries and grammar books, Dean could at least try. For his brothers' sake. He could even wrangle Bobby for his help. If the man could speak Latin, Greek and even Japanese, surely, German would be a snap. What Dean could not do was ask Castiel. As much as Dean trusted the Angel, this was one of those times where his mind won the wrestling match with his heart. And his mind was telling him to stay silent on the scroll. Castiel would take it if he knew. Why? Dean did not have a clue. Only that he was sure that would be how the actions would turn out.

With great care, Dean placed the scroll behind him and began to fold it as best as he could. He folded it again and again until it was a tight, small rectangle. With his eyes on those around him, he slipped it into the waistband of his pants between his gun and the small of his back. Hands smoothed out the tail of his shirt.

"Anyone find anything else?" he said folding his arms.

Sariel waved a scroll. 'Zao Shen is alive."

"And so is Baron Samedi," added Castiel. "It's beginning to look very good that Gabriel has also returned." He stared at the untouched scrolls. There were so many of them. An empire of parchments. "But where are his scrolls telling where Father took him?"

"You won't find them there."

Everyone turned to see Ganesha resting against the cauldron. He ran his sleeve across his mouth, wiping it clean. His cheeks were flushed with rediscovered health.

Kali dropped her scroll and rushed to the god. She took him by the arms. "You can talk freely? The spell is broken?"

"No." Ganesha shook his head. "I am still bound. But I am allowed to talk about the scrolls because that is my duty. And, unfortunately, you will not find Gabriel's scrolls with the rest."

"Why not?" asked Castiel as he returned his back to its original spot.

"Because they're gone. You weren't the first ones to visit me." He returned to his mountain of pillows for a seat. Picking up his quill once more, he dipped it in ink. "Baldr has the scrolls."

Kali was shocked. '"Baldr is back as well?"

Ganesha unfurled a fresh parchment. "Yes. And he came here looking to see if the other gods had returned. He found what I was doing and took the ones containing Gabriel's story. He wants to find the Archangel and use him as bargaining chip to make sure that the Angels and the Demons leave the gods alone, for good."

Dean snarled. "And you let him yank the scrolls? Just like that? I thought you were the protector of these home journals."

"No, I am not their guardian." Ganesha scratched the tip of his quill against the new parchment, writing an "A" in the Roman alphabet. "I only scribe them."

"Gabriel is back." Tears lined the edges of Sariel's eyes. She screwed up her face holding them back. She looked at her brother. "Castiel."

The Angel smiled feeling the same as she did. Their brother was alive. Father did give a damn. "Ganesha, do you remember what you wrote in the scrolls? Do you remember where God took Gabriel?"

Ganesha shook his head. "I wrote Gabriel's story in every language known to existence. Once I was done, the story left me."

"Makes sense," said Sariel. "You have all of those stories in all of those tongues pounding at your skull at once. Holding them in forever is a sure trip to the funny farm or the morgue."

"Great, freakin' great," Dean ran his hands across his hair and linked them behind his neck. "Now instead of searching for a single Archangel, we have to find a god in order to find that Archangel."

Sariel sniffed, wiping her eye free of a tear that did manage to escape. "Finding Baldr shouldn't be hard. We just have to ask his Dad where he is."

"You mean Odin? I thought you said that he would be useless. That he's too drunk."

Sariel slipped her hand into her pocket and took out a silver pocket watch. She pressed the release hatch and the ornate top sprung open revealing the face. She examined the time. "Not anymore. He shouldn't be."

"How is that so?"

"Time works differently here. Remember?" She put the watch back into her pocket. "It's much slower here than it is on the outside."

Dean's forehead creased with worry. "We've been here barely ten minutes. How long is that in outside time?"

Sariel's eyes became half hooded as her face went slack. She stood like how she was when Dean tried to spy on her and Castiel in the kitchen. An emotionless statue of flesh and bone.

Dean folded his arms in disgust. "Sariel, how long?" His voice became biting. "Dammit, I have my own life outside of this..." He could not think of the correct word. What was this anyway? A quest? A hunt? A freakin' search and rescue? None of those felt right. He shoved a finger in the Archangel's face. "I told you that I couldn't be away for more than a few days. How long has it been? Tell me!"

Sariel stared at Dean's finger. "You must really not like that hand to do that to me."

"I can't be harmed. Boss' orders."

"I am willing to take a dock in pay."

Kali began to laugh. The two turned to her, confused. She grinned. "He's a pain in the ass, isn't he?"

Sariel did not smile back. She was not willing to be quite so friendly with the god. Not yet at least. "I believe I know where Odin is at the moment."

"Don't change the subject," growled Dean.

The Archangel gave the man a look. Not only was the subject changed, as far as she was concerned, it had been wrapped up, boxed and put away in storage.

Dean was not giving up. "Cas, do you know how long we've been here?"

"No," Castiel answered honestly. "I do not know how the time runs in this realm. I'm sorry."

"Where's Odin then?" asked Kali trying to kill Dean's annoying demand for answers.

"He frequently goes to the States these days. Stays for years driving around in an eight wheeled RV he has nicknamed, _Sleipnir._ Mostly he sticks to the South and the Midwest for the open roads. And with it being lunch time there, I am guessing he's at a Waffle Town."

"A Waffle Town?" said Dean forgetting for a moment that he was pissed to hell at the Archangel. The idea of a Norse god ordering country fried steaks with biscuits on the side at the chain restaurant was too much for him. "How _the hell_ do you know that?"

"On the occasions I have had to speak with him when he was Stateside, he was at a Waffle Town. And always the same Waffle Town."

Dean closed his eyes. The idea was still bizarre. _"A Waffle Town?"_

"He likes their pancakes."

"I am coming along, " announced Kali. Her arms were folded and she wearing that half smug sneer that Dean swore he would never stop hating. "I want to find Gabriel too."

"You ganked him," Dean stepped next to Sariel. The last thing he wanted was another hitchhiker. Bad enough, he was bring dragged around by Angels, though Castiel was his friend. "You don't get a say."

"She what?" Sariel said.

"She ran his own sword through him." Dean glared at Kali, who was rolling her eyes like Dean was complaining about how she did not refill the car after using it. A little pithy thing. "Luckily, it was a fake."

"Lucifer was coming," Kali sighed. She threw her hands in the air. "I had to make sure that the Archangel sword worked or else all of us would have been murdered."

"Oh, that just makes it _A-Okay_, now, doesn't it?"

Fire formed and danced on Kali's arms once again. She had a mean streak of a smile on her face. "Keep talking."

Sariel snapped her fingers. Kali's fire died. The god swung around expecting to see the fury of an Archangel all over Sariel. But she did not. Sariel simply stood there. Her eyes were as still as stones. Her face was a sculpture of ice. Kali looked at Castiel. He wore the same cold expression. She could feel the hairs on her arms rise up as an uneasy ache became born in her stomach.

"Dean said that you and Gabriel were once together," said Castiel in a tone that was devoid of emotion.

Kali kept silent. She averted her eyes in guilt.

"Did you love him?" asked Sariel.

Kali did not answer.

Castiel took that as a "yes". "And, yet, you still stabbed him."

"Our brother," added Sariel. "In the hopes that his sword would kill him so that you could used it to kill our other brother."

Kali's eyes snapped with anger. "Like I told him," she nodded towards Dean, "It was Lucifer."

The realm became quiet. The only sound that made itself known was Ganesha's quill scratching the parchment.

Sariel reached over and seized Dean's shoulder. She grabbed Castiel's hand. "Good bye, Kali. Stay away from us. ..._Far _away from us."

"No!" Kali rushed the Archangel and yanked her by the shirt. "I want to go. I have to go. After stabbing him, after everything that I did, Gabriel saved me. He saved me! I owe him. And you know that, us, gods, must always pay our debts." Her eyes became glassy with tears that she refused to let go. "I need this. Please, Sariel. And you need me too."

"How so?" asked the Archangel.

"Do you think the gods will want to talk to an Archangel after having been slaughtered by one? Odin was drunk when you last saw him but him sober is a different person altogether. You know that. He is not going to be forthwith. But he will talk to another god. He will talk to me."

"You flatter yourself with your own importance, god."

A spark of rage flashed in Kali's eyes again. She closed them and counted to five. "Fine. I do. But the fact of the matter is, Gabriel loves me. He stayed hidden from the Angels but not from us, gods. Yes, he used a different name. _Loki._ But he chose to live amongst us." She opened her eyes and locked sights with Sariel. "If and when we find Gabriel, who do you think he would want to talk to first? And who do you think he will run away from?"

Sariel frowned realizing that there was a thread of truth in Kali's words. A seed of hatred and jealousy over Kali's relationship with her runaway brother was forming in her chest, right over her heart. Still, she knew that she had to think straight. When all was said and done, she wanted Gabriel back and she was willing to do anything to get him back. Even if it meant dealing with a god that she wanted to waste.

"Hold on tight," she said.

Kali did. The four vanished. Ganesha paused looking over his shoulder to where the group had been a moment ago. He sniffed the air, shaking his head. Licking a few stray grains of Manna from his fingers, he went back to writing.

Dean, Castiel, Sariel and Kali reappeared on the cornered of a busy four way. The clouds over head were a gray blanket rolling across the sky and threatening to pour sheets at any moment. The air was warm, damp and smelled of oysters. Dean scanned the world around him trying to figure out where in the States he was. There was a strip mall behind him, a smaller one to the side and a Wah Wah gas station in front of him. He caught sign of the street names going across. Shore Drive and Pleasure House Road.

_We are in a Coastal state. _He thought. _But which one?_

He turned to the Waffle Town that stood off to the side. There was a closed sign on the door.

"Where are we?" he finally asked giving up on figuring the location for himself.

"Virginia," said Sariel as she grabbed the handle of the door. "Virginia Beach to be specific. Come on."

Dean looked into the windows. The interior was dark. Chairs rested upside down on the tops of tables. The was no movement from anything. He pointed at the sign on the door. "It's closed."

Sariel swung the entrance open. The roar of conversations, clinking silverware against plates, gulping drinks and waitresses barking orders back to the kitchen hit Dean like a bull. "It's closed to Humans. But for everyone else, it's Happy Hour."

She walked in. Castiel and Kali followed. Dean leaned back and looked into the outside windows place was empty and quiet. He returned to the entrance. The diner was packed. The smell of syrup and country ham made his stomach growl.

_As if this whole thing could not get any weirder._ His eye caught the newspaper stand that stood next to the entrance. Holding the door ajar with his foot, he fished out a couple of quarters from his pocket. He paid the machine and took out a newspaper. If Sariel was not going to tell him how long he had been on the other side, at least he could find out for himself thanks to the newspaper date. He scanned the paper until he found the date nestled in the top right hand corner.

His eyes became as wide as epics as his jaw drop. _This can't be right. _Had he really been away for that long? His chest became tight with worry as he thought of Lisa, Ben, Bobby and even his friends at work. What were they thinking right now about him?

Sariel peeked out of the door and seized Dean by the lapels. "In you go, big boy." She yanked him in, making him drop the paper on the pavement. The door closed behind them returning the illusion of a closed restaurant once more.


	8. Chapter 8

NOTE: Kripke runs everything. Including Bartertown.

A few more questions will be answered. Especially the "Is Baldr that stupid to think that he can use an Archangel to his own benefit?" Also, if any of you SPN fanfic writers out there need help in the research department check out the books The Encyclopedia of World Mythology by Arthur Cotterell and Rachel Storm and A Dictionary of Angels (including the fallen angels) by Gustav Davidson. This story would have not been able to come into being without those books.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask. And, of course, thanks for reading.

* * *

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

"A month, Bobby," yelled Sam into his cell phone. "It has been a whole month since Dean left with the Angels. And no hide or hair of him. Nothing from Castiel for that matter either."

"I know."

Sam slouched against his parked car. He had placed his laptop on the roof in hopes of finding a wi-fi connection. He pressed a few keys but there was still no internet. _Freakin' boonie town, _he thought. "Bobby, we have to do something."

From his house, Bobby poured himself a glass of whiskey. "Son, I am going to tell what I told you last week when you freaked out just like this. We have to wait."

"He could be dead."

With one hand jerk, Bobby down the entire drink. He did not know what to say.

Sam did. "And if Dean is dead, it's only because Castiel is dead as well." He grimaced as he stared down the vacant interstate highway where he was parked off to the side. "Bobby you said Dean could go with Castiel."

"Don't you start with me, boy. Because you know that's bull." Bobby poured himself another drink. "And the only reason why I'm letting you talk to me this way is because I know you lash out when you're worried. Well, I'm worried too."

The two fell silent. Bobby finished his drink. Sam fiddled around with his computer. He had a signal.

"Where are you now?" asked Bobby as he could no longer take the silence.

"I am on a side road on I-35 just outside of Ward Township, Kansas. I am coming back from looking up on Lisa."

"How is she?"

"I don't really know her mindset. You know I can only watch from afar. Though she did tie a yellow ribbon around the tree in her yard. I did a background check on her and it turns out, she's a military brat. Army. She's probably used to having a love one go off for a long time to fight." He sighed. "She leaves a light on for Dean."

"She doesn't have a clue to where Dean is either then?"

"As far as I know? No."

Again, silence hung between them. Sam could hear the clinking of ice hitting a glass from Bobby's side of the call. No doubt he was working on his gin next.

"Bobby, what if we invoke an Angel?"

From Bobby's side, the man put down his drink before he could take a sip from it. He was stunned at Sam's idea. "No."

"Bobby, look, I've got some holy oil and if we-"

"No."

"But, Bobby, maybe the Angels know where he is. Or at least know where Cas is."

"Do I have to drive all the way to Kansas to smack you upside the head in order to make it clear, boy?" Bobby gulped his drink. "NO. The last thing we need is a pissed off Angel on our hands. Which is what we are going to get if you even dare to entrap one."

"Then I don't know what to do here. I have tried-"

Sam's phone beeped. Someone was trying to call. "Hold on, Bobby." He looked over the screen. The number was from someone he did not recognize. He returned the phone to his ear. "Someone's trying to get a hold of me."

"Who?"

"I don't know. I don't know the number."

"It could be Castiel, Sam."

"It's not his number."

Bobby gritted his teeth. He knew that Sam was smart but sometimes he swore the boy had pawned off his common sense. "Castiel could be using someone else's phone. Here, I am hanging up. Call me back up when you find out who that is."

Sam agreed and ended the call. His phone chimed telling him who ever had just called had left him a message. He pressed a button and listened to it. A voice he had not heard since he was little came on. A welcoming voice. A smile grew on Sam's face. _Pastor Frank!_ Memories of working at the shelter flooded the young man. He remembered running up and down the soup line, filling in bowl after bowl as Dean ran in the opposite direction, passing out bread. Both boys were tired as a dogs but both were happy. Instead of going around hunting monsters and killing and killing and killing, the two of them were helping people by giving them warm meals and a peace of mind that at least today there were not going to go by starving. Sam remembered his father returning from tracking and killing a nest of vampires. He remembered staring at his father and wishing that they, Dad, Dean and himself, could for once and for all give up the family business and settle in Leafwood. Sam remembered that they were back on the road, heading out of Kansas and tracking down a Devalpa not even two hours later.

For those brief moments of normality, Sam would always be grateful for Paster Francis being in his life.

He redialed the number.

The phone buzzed for a few seconds before someone picked it up.

"Hello?"

"This is Sam Winchester. Is this Pastor Francis?"

"Yes," said a cracking voice.

A warm feeling flooded Sam. The smile on his face began to make his cheeks ache. "Pastor, yeah, I remember you. How can I help you?"

Dean looked around the restaurant. Every table was full. People dressed in jeans, cotton shirts and flannel, every day traveling along America's highways gear. Yet as common as they looked, eating their lunches and finishing their drinks, Dean knew that these were not ordinary customers. His instincts were kicking in and screaming at him to get out of the diner. To go running, looking for salt and holy water. But Dean played it cool. He stuck his trembling hands in his pockets, put on a stoic face and leaned into Castiel's ear.

"It has been a month, Cas."

The Angel looked at the man in confusion. "What has been a month?"

"Since I've been on the whirlwind tour with you and your sis. A month, Cas. Do you know how screwed I am? Do you know what Bobby must be thinking?"

Castiel stared back into Dean's glower. The Angel's eyes because soft and child like. "I am sorry, Dean. I did not mean for this to happen this way."

"Will it did." He tried to out stare the Angel but ended up averting his gaze. He wanted to stay mad but he could feel himself go weak against the little, orphan kitten eyes that the Angel was giving him. There was something about that look that Castiel was so good at doing that made Dean want to pat the Angel on the head and feed him sweets. Dean bit the inside of his cheek to sharpen himself. He was not going to cave in to Castiel. Not when deep down he was actually furious. "When this is all over, you and me, we're going to have a pow-wow. Got it?"

Castiel did not answer. He had no idea what a pow-wow was but hearing the tone in Dean's voice, he knew that it was not a good thing to look forward to.

"Nice blood marking."

Dean spun around to see a young waitress with badly dyed red hair in braids standing in front of the group. She wore a perky smile that made her eyes crinkle.

He smiled back, happy to see such a cute face.

"Yeah, it doesn't make you look like a dork at all."

A flush of red burned in Dean's cheeks as he frowned. His hand shot up to his forehead, ready to rub it off. Kali grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

"Don't. It's a trick. She wants you to remove it because that marking is what is protecting you from being the blue plate special around here." She glared at the waitress. "Isn't that right, Druj?"

The Druj's face went from charming to sour in an instant. Her eyes narrowed and flashed scarlet before returning to blue. Dean shuddered and reminded himself that he was probably the only Human in the place. He remembered the kitchen in the hotel all of those months ago. The eyeball soup was still fresh in his mind. He looked at Kali, who had just saved him. The god gave a quick smile but went stern again. She seemed almost afraid to be nice to a Human. That it was somehow beneath her or at least it would taint her. But Dean nodded back, thankful for her help.

The waitress grabbed a stack of menus from the register counter. She smiled again only it was a fake customer service smile. "How many in your party?"

"We aren't here for lunch," said Sariel. "Is Odin around?"

The hollow smile vanished from the girl's face. A grimace replaced it as she glared at Sariel. She slapped the menus down on the counter. "We are a family establishment, miss. If you are coming in here to stir trouble, don't bother_." _She pulled at the symbol shaped pendent on the necklace around her neck. The bottom of pendent broke free revealing a tiny dagger. She dragged the blade across her palm. A red, wet line formed in its wake. "We know how to banish your kind, _Angel_."

"Unless you want me to tear off your head from your neck," stepped in Kali, "Tell the Archangel what she wants to know."

The girl went cold and white. "Archangel?"

A murmur shot around the restaurant. People were gasping at the horror of an Archangel present. Stories of Lucifer and what he had done filled the air. A table of people on the other side of the dining room raised their hands trying to get their waitress' attention.

"Check, please!"

If there was going to be a fight, they did not want to be in the middle of one that involved an Archangel.

"Everyone sit your asses down, right now!" bellowed Sariel as the lights in the room began to flicker.

The room obeyed. The lights stopped.

"We've come to ask Odin one simple question. After that, we'll leave," said Kali in a voice that was equally as menacing as Sariel's. "Tell us, where is he?"

"Can't a guy eat his pancakes in peace?"

Dean turned to the other side of the room. Eating at a small table with only another soul for company, sat Odin. He was hunkered over a large plate of pancakes that were soaked in syrup and smothered in butter. He arched an eyebrow asking an answer for the question.

The crowd around him grabbed their chairs and tables and scooted as far away as they could. The sound of wood scraping wood made the back of Dean's teeth ache. Dean shook it off and stormed towards the god. He paused when the man who sat with Odin and had his back set to Dean, twisted around. The god's eyes were milk white. Not higher ranking Demon white but a thin film over the irises white. He was blind. Dean confirmed this when he caught the god's white cane resting on the floor. The god raised his hands directly in Dean's path. The man became startled for a moment not sure if the god could actually see him or if he was really lucky at guessing the paths of people. Either way, Dean stayed put.

"Were you born from such rudeness that you can not wait for my father to finish his lunch before you accost him?"

Dean scrunched up his forehead in confusion. The blind god's voice was soft and soothing. A complete difference from Odin who returned to shoveling large chunks of pancake into his mouth.

"Easy now, Hodr," said Sariel. "We only want to know where your brother is."

Odin grabbed his cup of orange juice and gulped loudly. He slammed the glass back down on the table. "Which one of his brothers? I've had so many kids over the years I should have my own reality show."

Dean folded his arms. "The one that was ganked by Lucifer."

"Baldr?" Odin shoved another forkful of pancakes in his mouth. "That snotty son of a bitch? Why do you want him?"

"You know that he is back?" asked Castiel.

"Yeah, I know that he's back. Punk came to Asgard. Said he had been killed by Lucifer only to have been resurrected by something and wanted to see if I was back as well. He took one look at me and vanished. No,_ how are you, Dad? _No, _what was the other side like for you?_ No,_ this made me realize we should spend more time together as a family._" He stopped eating and rested his fork on his plate. Wiping his mouth, he frowned. "If death can't bring a family together. Nothing can. When he first died those millennia ago, oh, my heart was ripped apart. I tried everything to get him out from the netherworld. Hel was such a bitch. Let me tell you. But me? I die. It's like nothing to that boy. _Kids_. They have no heart."

"Get some group therapy," sneered Dean. He had enough family problems of his own. The last thing he wanted to hear was someone else's. Especially a god's whose family problems could no doubt be turned into sagas. And were. "We simply want to know where he is right now. Do you know where he is?"

Odin picked up his fork and resumed eating. He lifted up his empty glass. "Miss, can I get a refill over here?"

Dean began to fume. "Look, gramps, do you know where your kid is, yes or no?"

A crooked smile spread across Odin's face. He lifted his eyes slightly to the young man. "Boy, why don't you come a little closer. You may smell like a goddamn Angel but I doubt you heal like one."

The young man smiled his own twisted grin back. "Don't think I can't gank you right here, old man."

"True, but do you think it would stick?" He motioned his fork at Sariel and Castiel. "It seems their pappy wants to keep me on my legs. Kill me and I'll only come back."

Dean looked at Castiel. The Angel shrugged his shoulders, not sure that if Dean were to kill Odin, he would stay dead. The young man rolled his eyes and shook his head. Odin chuckled to himself and took in another bite of pancakes. He caught Kali standing behind Sariel, "What are you doing here, your highness? Don't tell me you're with them. Got a taste for the feathered folk, now?"

Kali glared at the god. The ball cap he was wearing ignited. Odin yanked it off and fanned it. From behind everyone, the young waitress came rushing in with a pitcher full of water. She grabbed the still inflamed cap and dunked it into the water. The fire went out. "No, no, no, no!" She slammed the pitcher on the table, sending a small wave of water on the floor. "We do not fight here at Waffle Town. We eat. We drink. We make merry. But absolutely no fighting. Our insurance will not cover the damage."

Odin mumbled a sorry. Kali did not. She crossed her arms, "Where's Baldr, Odin?"

"Why do you give a rat's ass where he is?" Odin fished out his hat from the pitcher. He checked the scorch marks. The hat was ruined. Sighing, he placed it on his knee. "And that goes for you too, Sariel. Why are you so hocked up on finding my kid?"

"Because he's going after Gabriel," said Sariel bluntly.

"Gabriel?" The name did not register. He blinked as it did. "Oh, _Loki. _He's going after Loki." Odin chuckled to himself as he pushed his almost finished plate away. He leaned in, placing his folded arms on the table. "You know, I've always wondered how Loki was able to escape that cave I holed him in. He said that as the Trickster, he never gave away his secrets. Never in a million years would I have guessed that he got out because an Archangel was wearing him like a Halloween costume. _That Loki."_

Sariel folded her arms. "That Loki isn't Loki. He's my brother. And your kid knows where he is."

"And why is he going after Gabriel anyway?"

"Because he thinks he can use my brother to bargain a way to keep your kind safe from Angels and Demons."

Odin sunk in his chair as his head lolled back. He groaned as he wiped down his face with his hand. "That moron." He sat up and tapped the table spot in front of Hodr. "I swear, sometimes, Hodr, your brother is the stupidest son of a bitch on the planet."

Hodr smiled in agreement.

"I mean, it didn't work the first time when he tried to bargain using the Winchesters," Odin said throwing a thumb in Dean's direction. "What makes him think it's going to work this time using an Archangel?"

"He's stubborn," said Hodr.

"Damn straight. Gets that streak from his mother." Odin looked at Sariel, "Of course, I take it you don't know where Gabriel is then?"

Sariel and Castiel shook their heads.

"Well, ain't you in a pickle?" He motioned to Kali, "Now I see why you are with them. Trying to find your old boyfriend then, hmm? Why? To kiss or kill him again?"

"Enough, Odin," said Kali. "Tell us where Baldr is and we will be out of your hair."

Odin looked at Kali, then at Sariel, then Dean and finally at Castiel with a sober stare. He grabbed his napkin, wiped his mouth and threw it down on his plate. "Truth be told, ladies and gents, I don't know where he is."

"What?" Sariel scratched her head. "But you always seem to know where he-how can you not-_seriously, _Odin?"

The god shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know if I came back wrong or he came back wrong but I can't track the boy any more."

"Son of a bitch," groaned Dean as he palmed his face. He wanted to turn around, run to the kitchen and raid it for all of the alcohol in the place. It didn't matter if it was cooking sherry or vanilla extract. He just did not want to be there anymore. And if he could not make it happen physically then he would make it happen mentally.

Odin slammed his fist on the table making Dean jump. The young man dropped his hand and glared at the god. "Do you always give up that easily, boy? I said I can't track him but I know who can."

"And you are going to help us, just like that?"

"No, not _just like that. _I am going to help out my boy and kin. Because," he paused shooting a stare at Sariel, "And this is no offense to you, Sariel, because I like you. You are one of the few Angels who doesn't make we want to spear you but your kind makes me wretch. You call us "monsters" but I've skimmed the Bible. I've wiped out battalions of men but they were soldiers. _Your kind_? You've slaughtered an entire generation of children because some Pharaoh was getting pissy. Confession time, Archangel, have you ever snuffed an infant while she was nursing from her mother's breast?"

Sariel's face became like stone. "No."

"But I bet you know someone who did."

Sariel did not answer.

"If Baldr manages to tick off more Angels this time, I don't think they will stop at killing the gods that are at arm's length like Lucifer did." Odin narrowed his eyes at the Archangel. "Am I right?"

"You may be."

The god sighed. "Damn, I lost my appetite. And that peach cobbler sounded so good too." He shot out a hand over his head and snapped his fingers, "Norns, I need you."

"We're eating!" chimed a voice from across the room.

Odin shook his head, rolling his eyes as if he was calling on an unruly brat. "I still need you."

"We're still eating!"

"I'll give you my bacon."

"The entire plate?"

"Yes, the entire plate!"

An older woman, a woman and a little girl stood up from a table that sat against the corner of the restaurant. The older woman was wearing a forties style blue dress with silk stockings and ruby lips. Her silver hair was done up perfectly in liberty rolls. Her style screamed classic. The middle woman had an over sized gray shirt with a Banksy print splattered across her chest. She wore it with black leggings and neon pink flats. There was something hipster modern about her. As if she did not follow the trends but was the trend. The little girl stood in a shapeless white dress as if the person who had made it had no idea what the outfit was to be yet.

The three pushed their chairs in and walked in step across the floor to where Odin was already holding out his plate of bacon. The middle woman grabbed it and divided the bacon among her sisters. She handed the empty plate back to Odin.

"Ladies, you heard these people speaking, right? Can you divine where Baldr is?"

The older woman shook her head, finishing her bacon. "You know I can only speak of where he has been, Father god," She made her way back to her table.

"And I'm not allowed to speak of where he's gonna be, not yet. Sorry, sir," said the little girl as she followed her eldest sister.

Odin watched them sit at their table, munching away. He stared at his empty plate. _Fat good those two are. _He looked up at the remaining woman who was nibbling at the crispy edges of an individual strip. "How about you, Verdandi? Can you do it?"

"Don't you mean, _will I do it_?" She smiled through half hooded dreamy eyes.

"I gave you my bacon."

"That you did, sugar." She stuffed the rest of the strip into her mouth. "Okie-dokie, let's see what I can do." She slapped her hands together, wiping off the grease.

She approached Dean. She was much shorter than him in that the top her head barely cleared his shoulders. Dean shot a worried look at Castiel. The Angel stepped in closer to the man's side, making sure that the destiny god knew that he was ready to protect his friend. Verdandi raised an eyebrow as she scoffed at Castiel as if he should be going around wearing a dunce cap. She held up her hand and laid it flat with the palm side up. Turning her head back to Dean, she gave a full tooth smile. "If you would, sweetie, may I have your hand?"

Dean threw a look at Castiel. The Angel seemed confused at the god's request. Dean then threw another look at Sariel. The Archangel nodded. With a touch of hesitation, Dean carefully placed his right hand on top of Verdandi's. The god took her other hand and twisted Dean's hand up, splaying out his fingers. She drew close and scrunched up her nose. To the young man, it seemed like she was trying to read a novel off of his fingers. She let out a hmmph.

"What?" asked Dean.

The god pinched his pinkie with a gentle touch. "You have a red thread to Gabriel."

Dean hunkered over his hand, trying to see what the god saw. But all he could find was his naked finger. "A red thread? What do you mean?"

"_A red thread,"_ Verdandi said in a tone that stated the Human should have known this as a fact a long time ago. When Dean shrugged his shoulders, she tssked. "Some individuals have very strong bonds with other individuals. Sometimes it's close siblings. Sometimes it's lovers. Whatever it is, these bonds are connected by a red thread running from one person to another. It's a magic thread. Not one of those cheap cotton ones that you can pick up at your local yarn store." She pointed at the tip of Dean's finger and ran an invisible line across the floor and up to the wall. "You, honey, have one that connects you to the Archangel, Gabriel." She returned to Dean's hand, picking up his ring finger. "You also have a thread connecting you to Michael."

She dropped the man's hand and snatched up his other one. Her eyes sparkled with excitement. "And on your other hand you have a connection to Raphael and Lucifer." She locked eyes with Dean, giving him a gleeful look. "You have a connection to four Archangels."

Dean yanked his hand back and rubbed his palms together as if he was trying to rip the strings off.

"I was right," said Sariel who seemed more sad than happy at her findings.

"Why?" growled Dean.

"Your birth, Dean," the Archangel continued. "It was planned. And those four had a hand in it. That has to be the answer."

Dean did not like that answer.

"This is interesting," Verdandi grabbed Dean's left hand again and held it up. She separated the thumb out and allowed her eyes to trace the thread only she could see. Down she went, going across and then up to where Castiel stood. She grabbed the Angel's right hand and took him by his thumb. She brought the two hands together, going back and forth between Dean and Castiel's with her eyes. "Why _hello_ there, little thread."

Castiel's eyes brightened as he looked at Dean who wore a scowl. The man yanked his hand back and shoved it into his pocket. He could not bring himself to look at Castiel knowing full well that the Angel was probably giving him puppy dog eyes filled with happiness. Knowing Castiel, the Angel was joyous to have a connection to anyone let alone Dean. That was the icing on the metaphysical cake.

"How about me?" asked Sariel as she stepped into Verdandi's sight, taking attention away from Dean much to his thankfulness. "Do I have a connection to Gabriel?" She shoved her hands in the god's face.

Verdandi sniffed the air, not really pleased to be bossed around by an Archangel. With reluctance, she took hold of Sariel's hands. Barely touching her fingers, she splayed them out and examined them. "Nope. What you have is six connections to your fellow Archangels of the Earth." She dropped Sariel's right hand and squeezed the index, middle, ring and pinkie fingers of her left hand. "However, these seem to be empty but I know they can't be. Not for an Archangel of the Earth. You are connected to everything that walks the land. But there must be something special waiting here for you."

She turned back towards her sisters. "Skuld, sweetie, can you come here for a minute, please?"

The little girl nodded, sending her curly blond hair dancing. She hopped off of her seat and skipped over to her sister. Verdandi lowered herself to her knees and held Sariel's hand out for the tiny god. "I know you can't tell me whom but there are soon to be red strings here on her fingers, correct, honey?"

Tapping each finger with one of her own, Skuld nodded and smiled showing off her dimples. "They are gonna be very strong lines."

Verdandi's stood up and patted her sister on the head. "Good girl. You can return to the table now."

The girl giggle and skipped back to her chair.

Sariel took her hand back and stared at her fingers. She did not have a line to her brother, Gabriel. That bothered her but what bothered her even worse was wondering who the future four were going to be.

"And my hands," said Kali because could no longer tolerate the unknowing. "What do you see?"

Verdandi blew through her lips, making a buzzing sound. She waved Kali over. The Eastern god obeyed and held out her hands. Verdandi turned them over and examined them. She dropped the god's right hand and pulled at the pinkie of the left. "How odd. You have two strings here. One that is fading but refuses to break. This one is for Gabriel."

A flush of red came into Kali's cheeks at this. "And the other string?"

"It's tied to Baldr. Not really common to have two strings on one finger." She looked at the god in the eye. "But it happens."

"Alright," said Dean who did not want to waste any more time standing in a room full of hungry gods. "We have a tie to Gabriel and Baldr. Can you trace these strings back to where they are?"

"No," laughed Verdandi, dropping Kali's hand. "No one can do that. Well, maybe the Oracle of Delphi but we are a long way from Greece."

"NO OLYMPIANS!" yelled the red haired waitress from the kitchen. She burst out of the swinging doors into the dining area with two plates of waffles. "They are banned from Waffle Town for the whole month. Ares can't hold his liquor. And the cook is still recovering."

"Don't worry, lady," said Dean as the smell of waffles hit his nose. His stomach growled. "We are not going to Greece anytime soon."

"Then what was that?" Kali said, holding up her hand and wiggling her fingers. "What was the point of looking at our hands if they don't trace back?"

"That?" smiled Verdandi as she stood next to Odin. "That was my hobby. Also, I like messing with people."

"Why, you-" Kali stomped forward, causing the floor to cave in under her step.

Sariel shot an arm in front of her, making the god stop. The waitress dropped her order at the tables and rushed on to where the indentation was. She looked at the hole, then at Kali and then back at the hole. The waitress' eyes turned red with anger as markings swarmed over skin.

"I'll pay for that," said Kali

"You better." She stomped off back into the kitchen.

Sariel's eyes did not leave Verdandi. Her face was cold and stern, matching her tensed body. "You've had your fun, Norn. Now, can you divine where Baldr is? Or better yet, where Gabriel is?"

Verdandi crossed her arms as her eyes scanned the ceiling. She clicked her tongue against her teeth going deep in thought. After a few seconds, she raised her left hand to the side of her, "Skuld, sweetie, be a dear and hand me my bag, will you?"

Skuld nodded and dove under the table. She reappeared with an olive drab messenger bag that was almost the same size as her. She threw it. The bag sailed across the room with such a great force that when Verdandi caught, she was nearly knocked off of her feet. "Thanks!"

Verdandi undid the straps that sealed the bag and flipped over the flap. She began to take out the contents. First came an issue of Nylon magazine, followed by an Ipod, then came an ancient grimoire and finally she took out a leather bag that was secured with a string made form Human hair. She settled the little satchel on the table and slid everything else back into her messenger bag. Dropping the messenger bag on the floor, she kicked it to the side and out of the way. She picked up the leather bag from the table and undid the string. Flattening out the hide, she revealed what it contained; a small, clear quartz crystal, a raven's feather and a set of runes. Grabbing the feather and the crystal, she placed the rock against her forehead and the feather against her chest. She closed her eyes and began to hum. The crystal began to vibrate as the feather melted into her skin and disappeared. She opened her eyes to reveal them to be black on black. Not like a Demon's but like a raven's.

Putting the crystal down, she clapped her hands and grinned, "And we're ready." Scooping up the runes, she shook them in her enclosed hands. She let them drop on the table. The runes hit the leather hide and began to slide around into place on their own.

Dean watched this with absolute fascination. He gave a glance at Sariel and Kali who both looked bored. Only Castiel seemed to be as intrigued as he was. Dean was grateful to have someone with him that was not yet jaded by the world.

The runes stopped moving. Verdandi scrunched up her nose and ran her fingers through her hair. "Right, I got Baldr. But Gabriel is a no show. Something is blocking my sight from him. But, hey, doesn't really matter. You've got Baldr. You've got Gabe."

"Where is he, Norn?" asked Sariel.

Verdandi placed the crystal back to her forehead. The feather was pushed out of her chest. Her eyes went back to normal. "It's not where he _is _but where's he _going to_. And that would be in his sexy Koenigsegg CCX heading towards Leafwood, Kansas."

"Where in Leafwood?"

Verdandi shrugged her shoulders. "That's the future. Not my department. I can only say where he is heading and it's Leafwood. Somewhere in Leafwood."

"I know that place."

Everyone turned to Dean. Memories were coming back to him in crashing waves. He remembered being in a soup kitchen with his brother serving lunch to the homeless. He remember himself smiling and having a good time even though he was tired and his muscles ached from so much work. "I've been there before a few times. It's not a big town. If Gabriel is there, it shouldn't be that hard to find him or Baldr."

"Good," said Sariel as she took Castiel's hand and grabbed Dean's shoulder. "We have a destination. Let's go."

"Sariel," said Odin. His voice was stern and he wore a tight lipped expression. "Don't hurt my boy. I know you can. But, please, don't. He's an idiot but he's not evil."

The Archangel sighed. "I'll try. But if he acts like a bitch then I am going to have to take him down like one. Understand?"

"Just don't give him any scars."

Sariel nodded. She motioned with her head for Kali to take her right shoulder. Kali took it and squeezed, holding on tight. The four disappeared.

From the kitchen the braided waitress came out. She searched around the dining area for Kali before staring at the hole the god made. "Son of a bitch, she didn't pay!"

Pastor Francis looked at Jack as he held his cell tightly to his ear. "First, let me say how good it is to hear from you again, Sam. It has been too long."

Sam chuckled, "Yeah, it has. Are you still co-running the shelter with Father Gallagher?"

"I am standing in the shelter with Father right next to me here." He handed the phone to the priest, "Say something."

Father leaned into the phone, "Hello, Sam, how are you?"

"Honestly? Shocked. It's not everyday you hear voices from your childhood again." Sam rested against his car, plopping his arms on the roof. He grinned. "Especially welcoming voices."

Paster took the phone back. "Then you'll be happy to know that my problem isn't pest related."

"Really? Then what?"

"Well, I have someone here who thinks that he may know you but he's not quite sure."

"Meaning?"

"He has lost his memory and we've tried everything to get it back."

Sam was puzzled. "Weird. And you say he thinks he knows me."

"I think I do," came a muffled voice from the background.

"Was that him?" Sam scrunched up his face, trying to think if that voice sounded like it belonged to someone he knew. "Pastor, put him on for a sec, please."

Pastor handed the phone to Jack, whose hands were shaking with nerves. "Hi, uhhh, I don't know what to say."

Sam closed his eyes. That voice was ringing a bell but he could not picture the face that went with it. Only a fuzzy image came to his mind. "So, you've lost your complete memory? All of it?"

"I still know how to tie my own shoes but as far as my name, home and original favorite color go, yeah, it's all gone." Jack chewed on the inside of his mouth. "Do I sound like someone you'd know."

"A bit but...sorry, I can't place you. Is this a cell phone? Maybe you can take a pic and send it to me?"

"Hold on." Jack turned the phone over to see a lens. He held it up to Pastor. "He wants me to send a picture of myself to him. Can we do this with this phone?"

Pastor shook his head. "The camera doesn't work ever since I dropped the phone last week. But I do have a digital camera. We can send a photo through his e-mail."

Jack nodded and went back to Sam on the phone. "The cell phone camera doesn't work but we can send you a pic through e-mail, if that's okay with you."

Sam closed his laptop. He looked at the cloudy sky overhead. "You know what? Never mind. I am in Kansas right now. It's about a thirty minute drive away from where y'all are. How about if I swing on over and see you for myself?"

"You would do that?"

Pastor tapped Jack on the shoulder in question. Jack turned to him. "He's going to come over now. He's not that far away."

"If that is alright with you?" asked Sam.

Jack returned to the phone. "Yes, it's more than alright. You have no idea what this means to me."

Sam chuckled. "Okay, then. Can I talk to Pastor now?"

Jack handed the phone to Pastor. Pastor took it. "I am glad you are coming, Sam. We have alot of catching up to do. How are your brother and dad, by the way?"

Sam frowned. He turned around, resting his back against his car. He did not speak.

Pastor's heart sank. "That bad?"

"Like you've said, Pastor, we have alot of catching up to do."

The two said their goodbyes. Sam hung up first and slipped the phone into his pocket. He grabbed his laptop and placed it gently on the passenger's seat. He went around the car to the driver's side when a Koenigsegg CCX came roaring down the road like a subsonic dragon. The blast of noise made Sam jump and flatten himself against his Charger. He frowned as he watched the car speed away. "Stupid European sports cars."

He climbed into his Charger and revved up his engine, trying to make it sound even louder than the car that had startled him. He slammed his foot on the gas. The wheels kicked up gravel as the car spun back onto the road. He followed the sport car's path towards Leafwood.


	9. Chapter 9

NOTE: Kripke owns all. Except for my soul. Crowley has that. Dammit. (Runs to Bobby for some help.)

Finally, we have of all the players in one town. We are quickly running towards the end and you know it's going to be messy.

Oh, and Mexican made Coca-cola is indeed very tasty. Confused? Just read the story.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask. Thank you very much for reading what is turning out to be a novella. (I never meant for this to go on this long. *shrugs shoulders* When you have a story to tell, you have a story to tell.)

* * *

**CHAPTER NINE**

The Ipod was playing Led Zeppelin's "Immigrant Song" at full blast as the car raced down the interstate. Baldr had one hand on the steering wheel. His other hand was holding an open scroll. Swedish script graced the parchment.

He gave a quick glance at the Ganesha's testament. Gabriel was back amongst the living. God had resurrected him and had sent him to The Church of the Resurrection in Leafwood, Kansas. Why Leafwood? The scroll did not say. That little lack of detail did not bother Baldr. Gabriel could have been placed there to help sell Girl Scout cookies for all that he cared. What did intrigue him was the fact that the moment before Gabriel fully awoke, in his half state, the Archangel had forced himself to forget who he was. Funny thing was, God saw Gabriel do this and was fine with the action. Baldr was even more fine with it. An Archangel who did not know he was an Archangel but instead thought he was Human? How easy would it be to kidnap that fellow?

Baldr grinned to himself as he went over the plan in his head. _Find Gabriel. Knock him out and put him under a blood spell. Take him back to my American flat in New York, where it is fortified with sigils to keep any Angel at bay. Invoke an Angel. Make a deal. _

The god promised himself that he would not make the same mistakes as before. He had left himself unprotected against Lucifer's attacks. Like luring a shark but forgetting to do so behind the safety of a steel cage. This time, he had taken an entire month to prepare. This time he was ready. This time it would work. And he and rest of his kind, especially the Aesir, would be able to sit on the sidelines, free of worry. _Let the Angels and the Demons kill each other. I only want to be able to go on breathing._

The GPS chimed in a cool woman's voice that the estimated time of arrival was forty minutes.

Baldr leaned over and fiddled with the Ipod. Iggy Pop's "Search and Destroy" began to play. Distracted, Baldr did not notice his car roaring past a Charger that was parked on the shoulder. He also did not notice a startled Sam Winchester giving his speeding car the hairy eyeball and cursing him under his breath.

No, on Baldr's mind the only thing worth paying attention to was Leafwood and Gabriel. Everything else could go to hell.

Nobuko opened the bathroom door onto the hallway. She leaned against the door frame. She had less than five weeks to go until she was due. The date could not come fast enough. The way the baby had been kicking her bladder, triggering her need to go, Nobuko was starting to wonder if it would be much simpler to set up a bed in the bathroom. At least the walk would be shorter.

She stared down the hallway, looking to see if that skeevy homeless man was still there. He was not. Nobuko made a note in her mind to ask Pastor, Father and Jack about the stranger. There was something about that man that was sending up red flags for her.

Slowly, she made her way back to the office to see Jack grinning like a little boy. Nobuko loved that grin. That meant good news. "Well?" she said approaching the trio, "What happened?"

"We got a hold of Sam Winchester," said Jack. "And he's coming here now."

Nobuko was shocked. "Now now?"

"Yes, now now." He pulled the young women in and hugged her tightly. "Thank you, thank you, thank you for your help. You are the coolest girl to have ever graced Kansas."

Nobuko giggled as Jack released her. "I don't know about that, Jack. Dorothy was pretty cool."

Jack scoffed, waving the idea off. "Chick was nothing without her ruby slippers."

"Father Gallagher."

Everyone paused with what they were doing and looked at the front of the office. The young priest who had been working on the bills was now standing up.

"Yes, Father William?"

"Could you get someone to man the phones for me while I use the restroom?"

"Got it!" chimed Nobuko. She grinned as she made her way to his desk. "If there is someone in this room who knows that when you gotta go, you gotta go, it's me."

William smiled back. "I won't be but a few minutes."

She sat down and placed her hand on the phone's receiver. "Take a coffee break, Father. I can handle this."

William thanked the young girl and went on his way. Jack knocked on the desk getting the girl's attention. Pastor was standing next to him.

"We are going to head back to the kitchen. When Father William returns can you meet us there?" Jack stretched out his arms, walking backwards through the entrance doors. "My past may be coming to meet me but we still have a room full of hungry people expecting lunch."

Nobuko nodded. "Save me an apron, Jack. And the good one!"

Jack nodded back and flashed the peace sign. He and Pastor disappeared down the hallway.

Father William zipped his pants and washed his hands. _I have to cut back on the coffee before my kidneys revolt._ However; a steady stream of coffee was the only thing keeping his nerves sound. Insomnia had always been a problem for him but lately, it was a terror. He had not slept in twenty six hours. Every time he tried to close his eyes and lie in his bed, his mind would rumble with nonsense. Every little detail that most people would ignore, he would think of. He spent most of last night sitting in the church's pews, praying for some release. Nothing ever came.

Now he was standing at the sink and staring at the mirror. The bags under his eyes were becoming noticeable. Especially on the face of someone who was not yet thirty. He thought about all of the bills he handled that morning. He was sure that if he went over them he would find error after error. _My head isn't where it should be._ He felt vulnerable.

He walked out of the bathroom and wandered over to the janitor's closet. He had taken the last of the paper towels. Instead of waiting for Mary to restock them, William thought it would be best to do it himself. He opened the door to find it empty. Though the dozens and dozens of rolls of toilet paper that were once on the shelves had been rearranged on the floor. They created a wall onto themselves. He made a face. The idea of the toilet paper on the floor disgusted him but that was the least of his worries. He grabbed a package of paper towels and closed the door, leaving the toilet paper rolls and the dead body hidden behind them alone.

The back of his head started to throb. Sparkles of white light appeared before his eyes like a tiny tornado. He knew what was going on. A migraine was about to hit. He dropped the paper towels and stumbled back into the office. Nobuko was on the phone and jotting some information down on a post-it note. She looked up to see the ashen priest coming towards her. She gasped and excused herself from the call. Hanging up, she tried to rise to her feet but tumbled back down.

"Father Gallagher!" she cried as William grasped the edges of the desk. His legs were starting to wobble underneath him.

From behind his laptop, Father Gallagher looked up. He took one glance at William and leaped to his feet. William doubled over. His head hit the desk. He moaned. Father Gallagher took the young priest by the shoulders.

He pushed the priest into a leather chair. "Father William, what is it?"

"Migraine," said the priest in a mumble. "I need some place to lie down. Dark. No light. No sound."

Father Gallagher helped the priest back onto his feet. "Yes, yes, yes." He led William into the hallway, "There's an empty room down the hall. Come on, son. You can do it."

The two clumsily started to walk towards the room. Father Gallagher paused, tossing his head back. "Nobuko, would you please bring Father William a glass of ice water? And ask Pastor Francis if he has any migraine pills on him."

"I will," said the girl pulling herself to her feet. "But the phones-."

"Let them ring. Honestly, it's not like we are expecting any more company than Sam Winchester. I doubt we are going to be swamped with new comers any time soon."

Nobuko nodded. She went one way, towards the kitchen and the two priests went the other way.

Father Gallagher led William to an unoccupied room that held a bed, a side table and a lamp. The young priest lied down and covered his eyes. "Can you get the waste basket, please?"

Father Gallagher winced, "Oh, it's going to be one of _those_ migraines, is it?"

Father William shot up in bed, "GET THE WASTE BASKET!"

The older priest snatched up the waste basket that sat next to the door and handed it to William. The younger priest pushed it under his chin and threw up. He threw up again. And again.

Father Gallagher turned away, "Yes, it is going to be one of those migraines."

Nobuko walked into the kitchen to see Jack and Pastor chopping up carrots.

"Hey, hey! Welcome back, chicky," Jack took a bright blue apron from a shelf and tossed it to the girl. "Grab a masher. You are on potato duty."

Catching the apron, Nabuko shook her head and placed it on the counter. "Can't. Need to pick up a glass of ice water and some migraine pills."

Pastor stopped chopping. "Oh, no, it's Father William, isn't it? He is getting one of his migraines again."

The girl nodded.

Setting the knife down, Pastor wiped his hands on his apron. "I swear, that boy should get his head scanned. Once a year is bad. A migraine every other week is not right." He headed towards the back of the kitchen, "I have some pills in the first aid kit. Jack, don't make Nobuko run around. Get the ice water."

Jack scrunched up his face. "I wasn't going to make her run around." He passed the girl, "I wasn't going to make you run around." He grabbed a tall glass and pitcher and filled them with ice cubes from the ice machine. He then ran past Nobuko again, flashing her a grin. Turning on the taps, he poured water into the pitcher first and then into the glass. He set both on the counter.

Pastor held out two gel pills to Jack. He took them. "Guess I am the delivery boy, then?"

"And you do such a great job at it. Like you were born into the role."

Jack gave Pastor a smirk. He placed the pills in his jean's pocket and picked up the glass and the pitcher. "I'll be back as soon as possible."

He made his way out of the kitchen. Past the dining room that was already half way filled and through the hallway, Jack wandered trying to find Father William. He found Father Gallagher walking in the opposite direction, carrying a standing fan. Father caught Jack's pitcher and glass and sighed in relief.

"He's here in this room," said the priest as he disappeared through a door way.

Jack followed. He walked in to see Father William lying in bed in the fetal position. His shoes were on the floor in a haphazard fashion having been kicked off in a fit. His hands were pressing in his eyes trying to make everything as black as possible. The air smelled of vomit. Father Gallagher set the fan next to the bed and plugged it in. He adjusted the machine so that the breeze was hitting William's face.

"Father William," said Jack as soft as he could. "I have your water and your pills."

The priest lowered his hands and sat up. He kept his eyes shut. Jack settled the pitcher on the end table. He guided the young priest's hands to the glass. William took it with a weak smile. Jack took hold of William's right hand and placed the pills in the cup of his palm. Swallowing them, William brought the glass to his lips and had a few sips. He stuck the glass out, hoping that Jack would take it. Jack did. The young priest lied down once more and said his thanks.

Father Gallagher stood back. "Alright, that is everything we can do for now, William. Jack is going back to the kitchen and I will be in the office. Don't worry. I'll check on you every ten minutes or so. Do you need anything else?"

"No," came a whisper.

With a nod, Father Gallagher nudged Jack and the two left the room. They closed the door only leaving a crack. Father William went back to pressing his hands against his eyes. He wondered how long this migraine was going to last. The one he had a couple of weeks ago stretched on for two days. He hoped this one would be more forgiving.

He took a deep breath and exhaled. His heartbeat rushed his ears. He told himself to relax. That was all he could do. Simply relax and ride everything out.

_Father William. _

The young priest raised his right hand away from his eye and lifted his head towards the door. He expected to see a person sticking their head into the room and calling him but no one was there.

_Father William._

A gasp escaped the priest's lips. This time the calling was louder. He realized it was not coming from the outside but from the inside of his head. He was hearing voices.

Was the migraine making him hallucinate sounds now? He shut his eyes tight and balled up as small as he could.

_Simon._

Father William raked his hands through his dark hair and grasped at the roots. "Shut up," he whispered out loud. "Shut up, please!"

_Everything is alright, Simon. You are not going mad. You are being rewarded for your faith._

The priest laughed. The voice had an agenda! William was now convinced that he was slipping. "And who are you?" he said wandering if his insanity was as clever as well. "What are you?"

_Oh, Simon. Why I am an Angel of Heaven. My name is Harut._

Sariel, Dean, Castiel and Kali reappeared in the middle of Leafwood on Main Street outside of Connor's Deli. Dean smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. With each jump, his mouth was becoming more and more dry. Right now, he could have sworn that he had been sucking on cotton balls for the last half hour.

"What a dump," said Kali as she looked around.

"Sorry, princess, that every small town in America can't be champagne wishes and caviar dreams." Dean scanned the place. Not much had changed since he was a teen-aged boy. He was glad.

"Where to now?" asked Castiel. "Where would Gabriel be hiding here?"

"I don't know," answered Dean. "But if you want to ask someone in this town if he has seen a certain someone, you'd ask Pastor Frank. That man knows everyone. If Gabriel is here, he has seen the Archangel." He turned away from the group and muttered under his breath, "God, I hope Pastor's still around."

"Good." Sariel grabbed Dean by the shoulder. "Tell me which church he belongs to so that we can go there now."

Dean smacked her hand away. "Uh-uh. See you are in my territory now. Sure, you are a great, big Soldier of the Earth Archangel who marches across the land doing whatever. But I probably know this place and its people better than you." He stood toe to toe with the Archangel. Not in a menacing way but in a power play. "You have led me on some wild goose chase that cost me a month. No more. I lead now. I say where we go. And we are going by foot."

"Walk?" said Sariel as if the idea was foreign to her.

"Yeah, walk."

Sariel glared at the man for a moment then her eyes became soft. "Fine. You do know the place. I will follow you for now."

Dean made a surprised face. He was ready for a knock out dirty argument. The last thing he had expected was for the Archangel to give in so easily. Still, it was nice to be holding the leash for once. He smacked his lips for a moment. "Okay, to the shelter we go but first things first." He ran into the deli and stuck his out of the door. "Anyone thirsty?"

"Welcome to Leafwood," read the wooden sign on the side of road. The two "o's" were shaped like little leaves. Baldr raised an unimpressed eyebrow at this as he drove by. In his mirror, a mile back a Dodge Charger was fast on his tail. But the two cars were about to go on different paths.

Baldr's GPS told him to turn right at the stop sign to head towards the Church of the Resurrection. He did. When Sam came to the same stop sign he kept on going straight remembering that was the way to the shelter.

Walking down the sidewalk, Dean twisted the cap off of his water bottle. Kali was stomping behind him, making sure he heard every heavy footfall. She did not like walking. Especially in a place where every passing Human was giving her a strange look. She wanted to yell at them, "What? Have you never seen a god in a suit before?"

Too bad Dean was enjoy her misery.

Sariel was also getting the occasional odd look from passersbys. The temperature was almost freezing and yet she did not shiver in her shorts. Still she was too locked in her own mind thinking of what she was going to say to Gabriel to notice. Unlike Kali, she was not a vain being.

"How many more blocks will it be, Dean?" she asked looking at a passing telephone pole flier advertising a garage sale at the Brennans'.

"Not that far. Two more." He turned to Castiel who was walking in step with him.

The Angel was sipping on a glass bottle of Mexican made Coca-cola.

"Well, what do you think?" asked Dean. "Can you taste the difference from the plastic bottle soda?"

"Am I supposed to?"

Dean sighed. Food and drink was really wasted on Castiel. "That one is made with sugar cane, Cas, not corn syrup. I-"

A Dodge Charger screamed past them going over twice the speed limit. Startled by the roar of the engine, Dean stopped and shook his fist. "Where's the fire, you stupid ass?" He turned to Castiel to say something more but the Angel was staring at where the car went. Castiel's head was cocked in thought.

"What is it, Cas?"

The Angel shook his head. That car looked just like Sam's car. But it could not be. Sam told him that unlike Dean's Impala, his Charger was more common. Could it be another car of the same make? He narrowed his eyes. It had to be. Why would Sam Winchester be in Leafwood right here and now?

He started moving again, "It's nothing."

Parked right outside, Baldr walked up to the front door of the church and tried to open the doors. They were locked. He pulled at them again. Still locked. His body began to tense up. If the doors refused to open then he would rip them straight off of their hinges. He knew he could do that easily.

"Everyone is at the shelter."

Baldr paused. Had someone spoke to him? He turned around to see a tiny, old lady with a walker. She smiled at the god.

"Excuse me?" he said.

The little old lady blushed. She had never seen anyone so handsome in all of her life. She felt her warm cheeks, trying to clear her head. "You are looking for Pastor Francis and everyone else, aren't you?"

"Everyone else?" His face lit up. "Does everyone else include a man around thirty something, about this tall with light brown hair and hazel eyes."

"Oh, you must be talking about Jack."

Baldr made a face. "Jack?"

The old lady chuckled to herself. "Everyone in town knows Jack. The sweetest boy."

Slowly, with careful steps, Baldr approached the women. "Does this Jack happen to have amnesia, per chance?"

"Yes, he does. Pastor Francis took him in. Poor thing." With her walker, the lady took a few steps towards the god. She discovered that he was even more handsome up close. "Are you friends with Jack? Do you know his actual name?"

Closing his eyes, Baldr laughed. _If she only knew_. He reopened them. "Yes, I know him well. And I am here to get him. Now, if you would ever be so kind, madam, would you please tell where I can find this shelter."

The woman turned in her walker and pointed westward. "Why it's only two blocks that way next to the Catholic church." She twisted back towards Baldr. "I am heading that way myself. Would you care to accompany a little old lady, young man?"

No one was there. The growl of Baldr's engine made the woman fall against her walker in fright. She watched as the car turn around and race down the street.

"How is Father William?" asked Nobuko.

Jack walked back to his counter space. "Not so hot. This one looks like it's going to be a bad trip through Electric Ladyland."

"I don't even get that reference and it still sounds awful."

"Well," said Pastor as he wiped his hands on a dish towel, "all we can do is pray for him at this moment and hope for the best. Now, Jack, can you take the metal tubs and fill them with ice while I gather the milk cartons and juice bottles?"

Jack nodded and headed into the dining room.

Father William rolled over onto his back, laughing. His migraine was still pounding away. "An Angel?" he said. "Oh, do I actually have that big of an ego to think an Angel would talk to me in my hour of need?"

_But I am talking to you, Simon. And I need you. There is work to be done._

Pressing the heel of his palms against his eyes, Father William sighed. He wished his migraine would be quiet now. He had never had one that was so quite so chatty.

"And what work, dear Angel, would that be?"

_I need for you to be my vessel. I need to walk the Earth again. _

William laughed again. How long was this absurdity going to last? "You're an Angel. Can't you just...beam on down?"

_Allow me to enter you. Be my body. Your faith can contain me._

"And if I do, will you shut up then?" he asked with his eyes still closed. "You are turning out to be a very annoying hallucination."

_I am no hallucination, Simon._

"Said the hallucination." He chuckled to himself. "Oh, come on, you are more gravy than grave. Those pills that Jack gave me. Were they actually medicine or something else? Has my mind finally broken? Maybe I should scream for Father Gallagher to take me to the ER. A comfy padded room sounds nice right about now."

_No. Do not call him. If you want this to end, say 'yes' to me, Simon. Allow me in. Help me to do my work. _

"Alright, you can come in. But wipe your feet at the door. I'd hate for you to track in mud all over my insides."

A force rammed hard into the priest's body. He gasped as his very breath was knocked out of him. A light burned as fierce as the eye of the sun, blinding him. A cold wave came over him. Then silence and blackness.

He stood in the darkness. _No,_ he thought as he looked down. _Not standing_. There was no floor where he was. Or walls. Or ceiling. He was floating in nothingness. He realized that what he thought of as himself was him as a soul. He had been shoved out of control of his own body. Panicking, he turned around hoping to find a way back.

And there before him was Harut.

The creature was enormous. Five times the size of Father William. Three pairs of peacock wings jutted from his back. One set covering his lower body and legs. Another covering his arms and chest. And the last one standing proud behind his head. Showing off like a crown. Four faces wrapped around a single head. A man's face, plain featured with coal dull black hair stared at William. His flesh was white. Not the pale pink white that Human skin can come in. But hollow white. Ungodly white. The type of white that could only come from something being erased. The three other faces were of animals; an eagle, a bull and a lion. All three beasts had their eyes and mouths shut. Long silent since they had once sung of the glories of Heaven and God.

William saw the being and understood what he was. Harut was an Angel. But there was nothing holy about this one. Nothing that had been holy for a very long time.

"You're a Fallen." William tried to move away but the world around him stayed still. There was nothing to move to. He was trapped within his own body. A prisoner of the Angel. He had been tricked.

"Get out!" he screamed. "In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, I command you to get out!"

In the room, in William's flesh, Harut sat up in bed. He patted his chest, "Sorry, Father, no take backs."

Father Gallagher raised the electricity bill to the light. There was a number to call to pay over the phone but he could not make it out. He turned away from the entrance door and pressed the paper against the glass window, hoping the sunshine would help out his eyes.

He did not see Harut in Father William's body walk across the doorway and towards the dining room.

Harut entered the dining room. Ten long cafeteria tables lined across the floor. Each table was accompanied by twenty blue plastic chairs. Almost every chair was occupied by a hungry person ready for lunch. The room was alive with conversations of every subject. Harut scanned the gathering searching for two specific people. He found them at the beginning of a middle table. The two grungy looking men were sitting opposite of each other. Their bodies hunched over a game of checkers. Their faces were well carved scowls that warned people not to dare be friendly with them. And people were not. Three chairs on each side were empty. A wide birth given the fact that normally people would be fighting over those spaces.

Harut smiled.

Walking right up between them, he bent over the two, casting a shadow on their game. The men looked up. Their eyes flickered black on black.

The Fallen Angel laughed at this as his eyes drowned in white, showing his dominance over the two lower Demons. The two men's eyes went back to normal as their faces fell in shock for one moment and then in joy in the next. Their master had arrived.

"Now, children," said Harut as his eyes returned to their Human state, "Let's see if we can get my grace back."


	10. Chapter 10

NOTE: Kripke is the saloon keeper of this here establishment. And all things Supernatural are his.

This chapter was like writing a play by play for football. Where's that player going to? Has that player been tackled yet? Oh, for Pete's sake, who has the ball? Yeah, I am not big fan of football.

Sam may be a better hunter than his brother but he's still not the sharpest knife in the butcher block.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask. And as always, thanks for reading!

* * *

CHAPTER 10

Sam walked into the shelter. The placed not only looked the same as he had remembered but it smelled the same. That thick blanketing odor of bleach and lemon floor wax was as welcoming as any open arms were. He went past a row of closed door rooms and straight to the office. His hands went up and touched the door frame. The last time he was here, he could not even brush the top of the frame with his finger tips while standing on his toes. Now he had grown so much, his arm was still bent as he squeezed the metal.

He peered into the room hoping the faces within would be just as familiar. Sam spotted a man in vestments pressing a piece of paper against the window. The priest shook his head as he rubbed his eyes. "I need new glasses."

"Father Gallagher."

The priest turned towards the voice. Sam felt himself stutter for breath. Father Gallagher's hair was no longer red. Silver had taken over. Wrinkles had made themselves a home against the corners of his mouth and eyes. But everything else about the priest was the same as Sam had remembered. The young man felt himself regressing to his nine year old self. He wanted to run up to the priest and have the man ruffle his hair like he had used to.

Father narrowed his eyes at the tall stranger. Then all at once he saw the boy he knew still inside those new comer's eyes. "Sam?"

Sam smiled as he ran into the room. The priest held open his arms. The two embraced like long lost relatives.

Neither one noticed Baldr giving a quick peek into the room, shaking his head and moving on down the hallway.

Father Gallagher pulled back, shocked that this giant wall of a man was the same boy he had once called, "Pipsqueak."

"What have they been feeding you, son?"

Sam smirked.

Jack settled the metal tub of ice into the hole in the serving counter. He rubbed his hands and blew warm air on them. Bad enough going outside to throw out the trash nearly froze off his fingers, now the inside chores were trying to finish the job. He swore he was going to grab the pots of hot soup next to balance things out. He ran his hands through his hair, scanning the busy room. There was a large amount of families today in the shelter. The numbers seemed to grow everyday. Jack hoped that the shelter had enough food to feed them all. Especially the children.

He blinked, spotting something odd. Father William was in the dining room. Not only was the priest up but he was having quite an intense talk with two homeless men that Jack had never seen before.

_Did the pills work that fast and that well? _Jack thought. He had to see for himself.

He waded through the crowd, excusing himself as he went along and went straight to the William. Putting a gentle hand on the young priest's shoulder, Jack smiled, "Father William, what are you doing here? Are you feeling better?"

The priest turned to Jack. There was nothing in William's eyes. Not anger. Not joy. Not pain. Not pleasure. Nothing. The look was if the man standing before Jack was a life sized puppet being played around on strings that Jack could not see.

The hairs on the back of Jack's neck rose. He could not suppress the shudder that raced through him. "William?"

Harut held up his hand and flicked his fingers at the man's direction. Jack was thrown across the room. He hit the wall hard with a thug and slid down to the floor.

The people who had witnessed this wailed in horror. The rest of crowd turned to the screamers to see what the commotion was about. A wide toothy grin spread across Harut's face as his eyes went white. The two homeless men with him stood up. Their eyes went black. All three turned about the room glaring every Human in the eye. They looked like hyenas ready to attack. More screams arose as people rushed towards the exit/entrance. Baldr stepped into the room only to be pushed back into the hallway as people stampeded out.

Pastor and Nabuko raced into the dining room to see what the screaming was about. They saw Jack crumpled on the floor, cradling his bruised head. Nobuko yelled his name. The man looked up with panicked and confused eyes. Leaning against the wall, Nobuko squatted, taking Jack under the arm. She tried to lift him to his feet but only managed a few inches. Pastor, on the other side of Jack with his arms wrapped around the man, did the rest.

Harut watched as the crowd scrambled around him. He caught sight of the only three people not fleeing. Among the trio was the person he had come for. He pointed at Nobuko, _"You."_

From the hallway, two people were thrown back into the dining room. They sailed through the air and crashed into tables and chairs. Harut looked puzzled at the moaning Humans, who were trying to crawl away from the chaos. He turned back towards the entrance. Baldr was on his feet and brushing off dirt from his four hundred dollar shirt. He was extremely pissed.

The god marched into the dining room and searched the now almost vacant room. He saw the battered Jack leaning against Pastor. He pointed at the injured man. _"You."_

"Your father passed away?" said Father Gallagher in dismay. He felt a knot in his stomach grow at the news. "Sam, I am so sorry. He was a good man."

Sam's mouth grew into a tight lipped slit at this. He gave a weak nod.

"What happened?"

Narrowing his eyes, Sam tried to find a way of telling the priest everything but without revealing anything. Pastor may have known the truth about the Winchester family business but Father still thought John Winchester was a wild animal pest controller. The young man shrugged. "He hunted the wrong thing."

Screaming started to race down the hallway. Sam and Father spun on their heels in time to watch people rushing down as well. The sound of the front doors being thrown open and banging against the walls made the two jump. Sam looked at Father wanting to know if this was normal. The priest shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

Frowning, Sam held up his hand at Father, motioning to stay put. He did not even look at the priest to see if he had understood. Sam was already heading out of the entrance and fighting his way against the swift current of frightened people. Father Gallagher stood in the office. He knew that the smartest action was to follow the crowd out into the parking lot. He chewed on his lip for a moment before growling, "I am such an idiot." He ran to his desk and threw a drawer open. Grabbing a bottle of Holy Water and a box cutter, he slammed the drawer back shut and rushed into the hallway after Sam.

Baldr took a step towards the wide eyed and terrified Jack. "You are coming with me."

The god felt his body stiffen in place. A moment later he was air borne and flying across the room. He crashed into a table, banging his head. A dent was left behind. Baldr shook it off and sat up.

Harut was glaring at him. "Who the hell are you?"

"Baldr." The god grabbed a blue plastic chair and threw it as hard as he could at the Fallen Angel.

Harut side stepped it. The chair rocketed past hitting the wall behind him. The entire thing shattered into a shower of pieces, taking a large chunk of the wall with it. The result looked like the impact of a bomb going off. Harut gave a glance at the damage. The god was very strong. Still Harut was not that impressed, especially given Baldr's known reputation.

"A pretty boy Aesir. How bothersome."

Baldr stood up on the table. He scowled. "And who are you to call me bothersome?"

"I am Harut."

"Never heard of you. From which clan of gods do you hail from?"

Harut laughed. "I am not a god, silly child. I'm an Angel." He threw his hand in the air, sending Baldr flying again.

Jack, Nobuko and Pastor were frozen in place out of fear.

"Nobuko," said Jack in a whisper, "That thing that looks like Father William said it's an Angel and it wants you. Why?"

"_Idon'tknow,_" she spat. She was too afraid to turn to Jack to answer. "That other thing, he called himself 'Baldr.' That's a Norse god. Why does he want with you?"

"_Idon'tknoweither,_" he spat back.

The two felt a tugging towards the kitchen. They slightly moved their heads at Pastor's direction.

"Come on," he whispered through clinched teeth, "while they are fighting."

"_Don't. You. Move."_

The three looked up to see Harut pointing at them. He flicked his wrist sending Pastor flying one way and Jack the other way. Nobuko pressed her back against the wall, shaking. Harut held out his hand behind him. The Demon with the matted hair took out a gold dagger from his coat and slipped into the Angel's hand.

Harut gripped it tight. He started to approach the young woman. "Little girl, I've been looking for someone like you for a very, very long time. Or at least, someone like that child in your womb. You see, a short while ago one of my followers found a prophecy about a living saint that was to be born in this very shelter here. It was talking about your unborn son. Now, here's the interesting thing about living saints. Their souls are special. Not the bargain basement dime a dozen types that infect the average flesh bag. No, these souls have the ability to restore grace. I need that ability."

"Wait."

Harut twisted around to see Baldr on his feet. The god had a puzzled expression on his face. The Angel struck his hand in the air. Baldr held up his hands. "A minute before you start tossing. I wish to ask you one thing, Angel. Simply one thing."

Dropping his hand, Harut narrowed his eyes. "What is it, god?"

Baldr hopped on top of the table and pointed at Nabuko. "Let me make this clear, you are here because you want the girl and not him?" He pointed at Jack.

Harut looked back at Jack who had climbed to his feet and was going for Nobuko. Harut snapped his fingers. Jack was up in the air and floating across the room. He stopped a few feet before the Angel and stayed hovering. "Him?"

"Yes," Baldr.

Harut stared into Jack's fearful eyes. The Angel made a face when he did not notice anything special about the man. "Why would I want him? Or better yet, why do you want him?"

Baldr cocked his head. _He doesn't know? _The god wanted to giggle with delight but he bit the inside of cheek. "Personal reasons." He hopped off of the table and came close to the Angel. The two demons blocked the god. Their faces were twisted with rage. Baldr rolled his eyes at their attempt to scare him. "Look, Harut, is it? We don't need to fight. We are here for different reasons. You want the girl. I want him. How about we take our prizes and go our separate ways. No one needs to shed any more blood. Well, at least shed yours or mine."

Harut still searched Jack with his eyes. He brought the man even closer, sniffing the air. Jack smelled of carrots, soap, shampoo and of little else. He looked so common in his plaid shirt and faded jeans. Why would this Human demand such attention from a god? Harut had to know. "Is he magic? Does he possess knowledge that may be used for the Arts?"

"Arts?" Baldr scrunched up his face. The Angel was asking one too many questions for his liking. "No, he is simply a standard Human. Only except for the fact that I want him."

Jack could feel his heart wanting to break out of his chest. It was pounding so hard. He tried to move his head to look at Baldr but could not. Still he had to say something. "Baldr? Sir. I don't know who you think I am but there isn't anything that I have or know that you could possibly want."

"Silence," hissed Baldr. "Or else I will slice out your tongue the first chance I get."

Harut chuckled to himself. Humans and gods were so amusing somethings. He looked over Jack one more time and found nothing again. "Fine, little Aesir, take your pet. You are right. We do not need to fig-"

He caught a spark in Jack's eye. Something fleeting but familar. Something that made him shudder in awe. Harut waved his hand. Jack flew up to the Angel. With the dagger still in his hand, he seized hold on either side of the man's head and pried open Jack's eyes. Harut's nostrils flared as he came within inches of Jack's face. Almost pressing his own eye on the man's.

The spark flashed again.

"_Grace,"_ said the Angel. "You have Grace. _Why?"_

"What the hell is going on in here?"

Harut, Baldr and the two demons looked to see Sam standing in the hallway. The young man stood tensed, ready to fight but still full of confusion. He did not understand why there was a priest holding onto another man by the head and practically headbutting him. Nor did he understand why there were Humans cowering in the corners. He caught Baldr giving him a glowering look.

"_You?"_ said the young man as he then spotted the black eyes of the two Demons. He retreated a step. Pulling out his Taurus Model 99 from the back of his pants' waistband, he held the gun steady in both hands. He then looked over at the priest again. He saw Harut's white eyes_. A high ranking Demon?_ he thought, _Here? Why?_ Then he realized who the man in Harut's hands was and became even more baffled._ "Gabriel?"_

Harut's mouth dropped open at the name. Something clicked in his head. Now he understood why the shelter worker had grace. He turned back to the man in his hands. _"Brother?"_

Dean watched as people bolted out of the shelter. "Dammit, looks like Baldr beat us to the punch."

Sariel's face twisted into a snarl. "I knew we should have teleported." She started to go towards the front door.

Dean grabbed her by the arm. "Hold on a second."

The Archangel stopped, glaring at his hand on her wrist. Dean let go but put up a finger indicating to be patient. He grabbed a fleeing young woman in a gray coat and orange scarf. She shrieked in panic. Dean spun her around. "Whoa. Whoa. I'm not gonna hurt you. Just tell me what is going in there."

The girl gulped for air as she stared at Dean with shocked eyes. She then looked at Sariel, Kali and Castiel. They were so calm that her heart slowed down in response. She held her breath for a beat before talking. "A priest. He tossed a man across the room like it was nothing. Like he was a doll. There were two others with them. They had black eyes. Like dark, demon like eyes. And the priest's, his eyes were white. All white. I don't think he was Human."

Dean turned to Sariel, "Does that sound like a Norse god to you?"

"It doesn't to me," said Kali.

The girl tugged her arm sharply breaking herself free from Dean's grip. She dashed off down the street, vanishing around a gas station.

Sariel returned to the front doors of the shelter. "Demons? Why are they here?"

Dean clicked his tongue. "My guess? To get Gabriel like Baldr's doing."

"Yeah. But how would they know that Gabriel is even alive?"

Kali started for the door. "Stop talking and let's find out."

Dean ran, over taking her. The last thing he wanted was for Kali to go ramming into the shelter like an army invasion. She would ransack everything she touched. Even the Humans that might be in there. He raised his eyebrows, holding his hands up. She narrowed her eyes and flared her nostrils. Dean turned away from her and went for the door. "Try to keep the carnage to a minimum, princess. I like this place."

Jack stared back at the man holding him. The face was Father William's but the eyes, with their dead white gaze were not. Feeling his stomach twist in fear, Jack wanted to cry but he did not. Nobuko and Pastor were still near and helpless. He did not know that if he struggled with the creature before him, the monster would take out his wrath on them. No, he would have to try to reason with the thing that looked like Father William even though Jack knew that was insane.

"Gabriel, please, tell me it's you," said Harut. He stopped squeezing the man's face and began to stroke his hair like a parent would stroke his own child's. "I heard you died by Lucifer's hand. That bastard brother of ours. Did Father bring you back?"

"I...I..." Jack's bit his lip. "I don't know who this Gabriel is, sir. But I am not him. I'm sorry. I am just a shelter worker."

Harut stopped petting. "Gabriel. What is this? Another one of your jokes?"

"Please, look at me. I can't be who ever you are looking for. I am a nobody. A completely harmless nobody."

Harut frowned. Jack knew that he had pissed the creature off.

Baldr grabbed Harut by the arm. He yanked the Angel away from Jack, kicking the Demons as he did so. One Demon was thrown through air. He hit a table and slid all the way down. The other slammed into another table, breaking off a chunk with his head. With every last bit of his strength, Baldr swung around and flung Harut across the room. The Angel hit the cement wall and left a deep impression. Gray dust formed a cloud as Father William's body dropped to the floor. Baldr grinned at his handiwork, satisfied that the meddlesome Angel would at least be out for a few minutes. Enough time to take the Archangel and split.

He turned back to where Jack had been tumbled to only to see no one was there. He looked up to see Sam holding Jack by the underarm and dragging him to where two Humans, a man and a young girl, were waving them over. Baldr hopped off of the table. _First an Angel, now a Winchester shows up._ _And here I thought this was going to be simple. _

"Sam," said Baldr holding out his hand, "give me Gabriel."

Sam and Jack joined Pastor and Nabuko at where they were standing. Nabuko wrapped her arms around Jack's waist. He wrapped her arms around her shoulders. They were both trembling.

Sam turned to Jack, grabbing hold of the man's shoulder. He came within inches of Jack's face. "I don't know what your game here is, Gabriel. But this trick has got to end."

"Why is everyone calling me 'Gabriel'?" Jack pointed at Baldr, "Look, kid, I don't know who or even what that is" He thumbed back at Nobuko, "She says he's a god. A god! And I also don't know what is going on with Father William. Or even if that actually is Father William. And you, you are acting like you know me. I. Don't. Know. You."

Sam blinked as his mind fit the puzzle pieces together. The phone call from Pastor wanting help with a friend who had forgotten his memory. _That was Gabriel?_ He could not believe it. No, it had to be a trick. This whole thing had to be a game of some sorts by the Archangel to teach Sam a lesson. Then Sam realized that Gabriel had died all of those months ago. Slayed by Lucifer. Even the creature in the vestments had said that. _That creature? He called Gabriel, "Brother." Another Angel? And if he said Gabriel had died for sure then how did he come back? Was Castiel right? Did God bring Gabriel back like he brought me back? _He felt his chest, touching the hollow feeling that had been plaguing him for months. _Could Gabriel have that same feeling only with his memory? _

He turned back to Baldr. "You know the answer, right? As to why Gabriel is acting like this."

Baldr gave a half smile. He did not even have to nod to make Sam understand. "And I am sure you know too and that's why you are here. He has lost his memory."

The hallway became empty as the last person fled out of the doors as Dean and the others flooded in. The interior was exactly how he had remembered it. Down to the children's drawings that decorated the walls. For a second, Dean wanted to stop and take it all in. The shelter, the church and Pastor Francis' house, for a short while, was one of the best homes he had ever had. It was one of the few places he felt safe and in return one of the few places where had a complete peaceful nights sleep. A rarity in his life.

He spotted a man in vestments running down the hallway with a bottle of Holy Water in one hand and a box cutter in the other.

"Father!" Dean chased after him with everyone on his heels.

The priest spun around to the voice calling him.

Dean gasped as he recognized the priest. He felt his insides melt with warmth. "Father Gallagher?"

Father scrunched up his brow at the stranger. He eyed him up and down before returning to the man's face. Something about the smattering of freckles about the man's cheeks and nose was familiar. Father's eyes widen as a memory of a boy taking a break in the kitchen, sitting on the counter and playing, 'connect the freckles' with a ballpoint pen came to him. "Dean Winchester?"

Dean let a nervous laughter of relief. "Hello, Father. Long time, no see."

Father smiled, "Oh, I would hug you right now, son, but your brother went ahead to the dining room and there is something happening there. Something off." He started down the hallway, "Follow me."

"My brother?" Still standing, Dean made a face. "Sammy's here? How can Sam be here?" He turned to Castiel. With his unblinking blue eyes, the Angel looked spooked. Dean had never seen that expression on Castiel before. "Cas?"

Castiel vanished.

"Goddammit!" Dean broke into a sprint towards the dining room with Sariel and Kali overtaking him and running ahead.


	11. Chapter 11

NOTE: Kripke owns all. Except for this leg in a fishnet lamp in my room. That's mine.

Okay, we are almost at the bitter end. One more chapter and an epilogue. Thank you so much for sticking around with me these past few months and reading my silly little story.

Here's a little trivia for you; Nabuko means "child of faith". Yeah, I named her knowing she was going to give birth to a living saint. Father Gallagher's name means, "love of strangers" which I thought would be a great name for someone who runs a shelter. Pastor Francis was originally going to be Pastor Jim like in the show but then I remembered that Pastor Jim died at the end of season one. (Drat!) So, Pastor Jim became Francis as in St. Francis. Harut is an actual Angel of mythology just like Sariel. There are two myths attached to him. I stuck with the one below. There isn't a Leafwood, Kansas but there is a Leawood, Kansas, which is what the town is based on. And, yes, Leawood has a Church of the Resurrection in it. It's a Methodist church like the one in the story. Oh, and "el" in Hebrew names means "God" hence many Angel names have "el" in it.

See, you next chapter. And as always, if you have any questions, feel free to ask.

* * *

**CHAPTER 11**

Castiel reappeared near the entrance of the dining room. There were broken tables and a small crowd of chairs that had been pushed around in a mess. The air smelled of cement. He noticed a huge dent in the wall but nothing that claimed to be the reason for it.

"Castiel!"

The Angel swung around to the sound of the voice. He saw Sam pressed against the wall with a group of Humans balled up next him, trying to make themselves as small as possible. Castiel made a face. The car that he saw racing down the road, the one that was identical to Sam's car was indeed Sam's car. The priest had been right. Sam had gone ahead and any moment now Dean was going to run into the room. He was going to see his brother. _Then what? _Castiel did not know. Was he going to have to confess to Dean that he had known that his brother had been back on Earth this entire time? And how would Dean react? No doubt with screaming, tears and things being thrown. Most likely fists. Castiel knew that no punch Dean could throw at him would hurt him. But it was the idea behind that punch, that raging emotion of betrayal that Castiel was so afraid of.

"'Castiel?' Nothing that ends with '_el_' can be good."

Castiel turned to Baldr. The god was glaring at him with a chair in his hand. The god threw it.

The Angel vanished and reappeared in front of Baldr. He punched the god sending him in the direction of where the chair flew. The chair smashed against the wall, shattering. Baldr hit the wall a moment later making an even bigger hole. Castiel spun on his heel back towards Sam.

"Cas, where's Dean?" Sam said. "Is he safe?"

"I'm right here."

Dean stood at the entrance with Kali, Sariel and Father Gallagher standing beside him. He looked at Castiel. The Angel averted his gaze. He then looked at Sam who stared back with vacant eyes that Dean could not read. But Dean knew that those were not innocent eyes. He turned back to Castiel. "You knew he was back, didn't you, Cas?"

Castiel opened his mouth to say something but remained quiet.

This upset Dean even more. "How long did you know?" He went back to Sam, "How long have you even been out?"

"Out of what?" asked Father Gallagher.

"Dean?" Pastor Francis rose from his hiding spot. "Is that you?"

The young man forgot himself for a moment as his heart thumped at the sight of Pastor. He wanted to run up and give the man a hug. To feel that safety he had once so long ago. Especially now with all that he had been through. Especially with Sam..._Sam. _A hard look came over Dean's face as he glared back at his brother.

"Baldr?" Kali walked away from the group and went towards the god who was climbing to his feet. A memory flashed in her head. One of Lucifer punching his fist through Baldr's chest. Of the god dropping dead as if he were an ordinary mortal. She touched her own chest. Her heart was pounding so hard her skin thumped against her hand. Even though Ganesha had told her that Baldr had come back, some part of her did not believe it. But here he was, alive.

The Aesir stopped brushing the cement dust from his black trousers. He was shocked. "Kali? What are you doing here?"

Kali let out a nervous laugh as she ran up to the god and tackled him in a hug. He gasped as the wind was knocked out of him. But a second later, he hugged back as tight as he could.

"Where's Gabriel?" asked Sariel who could not care less about the little reunions that were going on around her. She only cared about her own.

"Another one?" Jack said as he climbed to his feet, pulling Naboku up with him. "Why is everyone looking for this Gabriel?"

"Gabriel!" said Castiel as he rushed toward Jack.

Jack pressed his back against the wall and raised his hands. "Stop right there, Columbo. I'm not Gabriel. I don't even know who this Gabriel is. Okay?"

Castiel stopped and gave a confused head tilt. Sariel went up next to him, glowering at Jack.

"This isn't funny, Gabriel." She folded her arms. "And I know you are Gabriel because I lifted your body, put it on your grave and placed your death shroud on you, myself."

"Death shroud?" Jack scanned the faces that were staring at him. Confusion was turning into burning anger in him. "I AM NOT GABRIEL!"

"He has lost his memory," said Sam.

Jack turned to the young man. "Losing my memory has nothing to do with this. I am not who they say I am. I can't be." He slapped his chest. "Look at me, I am Human. Okay? HUMAN!" His body tensed up. He screamed. "Now everyone, shut up and get the hell out of here!"

Dean, Father, Sariel, Castiel and Pastor began to float in the air. They shot in every direction slamming into walls and tables. Pastor and Father were knocked out cold. Sariel and Castiel crashed into tables. The Angel and the Archangel broke them into splinters. Dean managed to brace himself for impact. Still, he let out a gasp as his body tumbled from the wall. Jack and Nabuko dropped back down to the floor, clutching each other. From the other side of the room, Harut emerged.

"This is getting tiring," said the Fallen Angel as he stepped towards Jack and Nabuko. He waved both of his hands in front of him. From their landing spots, Sariel and Castiel were lifted again and flew right in front of Harut. "Sister. Brother. How do you do?"

Dean rolled over on the floor and moaned. He heard Sam call out to him. Shoving the pain as deep down as he could, he sat up to see Sariel and Castiel floating a few feet away from him and a priest standing in front of them, holding out his hand. "Sam, who is that?"

"An Angel!" yelled back Sam.

"An Angel who can trap an Archangel?" He got to his feet. "Sariel, stop fooling around and smoke that bastard!"

Sariel struggled in the grip of Harut's spell. Every time she wiggle, she could feel the bindings tightening. She had only been bound like this one time before and knew at once who the stranger in the vestments was. "Okay, which one of you is it, Marut or Harut?"

Harut grinned, "Oh, you still remember, Sariel. How sweet. Because I remember you. You are still wearing the same skin as you were when Father ripped the Grace from me and had you, Archangels of Earth, hurl me and our brother into Hell!" He lifted his hand. Sariel crashed into the ceiling. Harut slammed his fist down into the tiled floor. Sariel came plummeting down right after, making a crater.

Kali and Baldr stood back watching this. She turned to the god. "What is going on?"

"None of our business." Baldr grabbed Kali by the shoulders. "Kali, Gabriel is here. But you probably know that already. Listen, darling, let's grab him and use him to keep our kind safe from this." He waved at Harut and his siblings. "We can do this."

Kali stared into the god's eyes. She felt herself wanting to do anything he asked of her but she forced herself to focus. "No, we can't do that, Baldr. I-"

Baldr pressed two fingers to her lips. "I was dead, Kali. I was on the other side. I searched and I searched but I could not find you. You were not murdered, were you?"

Grabbing Baldr's hand as soft as she could, she pulled her head away from his fingers. "That's simply it, Baldr. Gabriel saved me. And he was murdered because of me. I have a debt to him."

"He's an Angel, Kali. Not a Human or a god. Debts to them matter not. Especially with what I have witnessed on the other side." The god put his hand on top Kali's hand. Both gods held each other tight. "You think we were cannon fodder in the war between Lucifer and his Demons and Michael and his Angels? No, I've seen the truth. We weren't accidental casualties. We were chess pieces. There's a game being set up, Kali, by the Angels and the Demons. I've seen it. The Apocalypse was only the first stage. I want out. I want us to be safe."

Kali did not say anything.

The lights started flickering over head. Kali looked down at her arm to see the hairs standing on end as static electricity filled the air.

Harut tssked as Sariel stood up in her hole. "No, no, no, sis. We are not going to have a sequel of you pushing me back into Hell."

The Archangel gritted her teeth. "It's my duty, Marut."

"And such a good apple polisher for Daddy you are." His grin switched to a frown. "Did you actually think I was going to be unprepared if you or any of the Archangels happened to show up?" He held up his hand as his eyes narrowed. "To the corn fields with you."

He snapped his fingers. Sariel vanished.

"And it's_ Harut._ Marut is still down there. Poor bastard."

Dean felt the air go out of him. _There went our best soldier. Castiel doesn't have a prayer against this one. We are so screwed._ He inched backward towards Sam, hoping that Harut was too occupied with Castiel to notice him. He felt his brother grab the cuff of his pant leg and pull him down. The two of them were face to face once more. Dean could not help but want to punch Sam in the face. The fact that his little brother had been out for who knows how long but did not bother to contact him, gnawed at Dean's gut. But then he saw a very frightened Gabriel next to Sam. He remembered Castiel floating there at the mercy of his brother. _Where's Kali?_ He turned back to see her standing with Baldr, their hands wrapped around each other's hands. Their faces within inches of each other, talking. _Fantastic time to go Oprah reunion on us, princess. _He wondered how good would Kali be anyway in a fight against the Angel, anyway. If he could take down Sariel then he could take down Kali. No, their only hope was...

"Listen to me, pal," Dean siezed Jack by the shirt. "Memory loss or not, you still probably have Gabriel's powers. Because that's who you are, Gabriel."

Jack dug his fingers into the meat of Dean's hand. A snarl was twisting his face, "I am not Ga-"

Dean slammed his free hand over Jack's mouth. "No time to fight. We need to remember."

"Harut, stop this now," croaked Castiel as Harut squeezed tighter.

The Fallen Angel shook his head. "Not until I get my Grace back, little bro. I can see Sariel not understanding my want. She has never lost her Grace. Not to mention as an Archangel of Earth, she is nothing but a War dog. But, you and me. We are different. I was an Angel of Knowledge and you, an Angel of Order. We are creatures of facts and figures. Not like Sariel who prefers a club to a book. You and I, we both fell for the very same reason. We cared for Humans too much."

"You cannot compare yourself to me. You taught Humans forbidden magic."

"It was healing magic! Father creates all of these viruses, all of these bugs that ravish Humans. Destroys them from the inside out. I was helping them. Giving Humans a fighting chance." Harut bared his teeth, "I showed mercy. More mercy than Father gave and I was punished for it."

"It wasn't your place to give."

Harut paused, staring at Castiel with a disgusted look. He waved his hand and Castiel dropped to his feet, freed. The Angel did not move from his spot. His sights remained on Harut. The Fallen Angel rubbed his eyes. He did not know how but he felt tired and a little sore. Father William was not the best vessel and some how his Human aspects were bleeding into the Fallen Angel. Harut cracked his neck. _"It wasn't my place to give._ It wasn't your place to help out the Winchesters but you did. And, yes, I know everything you've done. Hell was all a buzz about another Angel losing his Grace. The Demons were practically giddy. Have you ever seen a giddy Demon? It's a weird, _weird _thing." He sighed. "I want to go home, Castiel. I want to go back to Heaven. Hell is..."

"Not that different from Heaven, these days," interupted Castiel. "Or at least Heaven is not that different from Hell. There's a civil war happening up there."

"I've heard. But I'd take a war torn Heaven over a peaceful Hell because there is no such thing as a peaceful Hell. I am so exhausted, Castiel. I want to close my eyes and rest."

"THEN REST!"

A bolt of electricity struck Harut, making Father William's body spasm. The Fallen Angel cringed in agony as he fought the urge to scream and drop to the floor. He forced his body to turn around to look at his attacker. Sariel was standing there with her hand up in the air. A stream of electricity ran down from one of the exposed overhead lights to her hand and raced through her body to her other hand that was pointed at the Fallen Angel. The white bolt crackled and flowed off of her fingertips like water through a firefighter's hose.

"You think that throwing me into an active volcano was going to slow me down, brother?" She closed her hand, stopping the stream. "I am a goddamn Archangel of Earth! Who do you think you are dealing with? A pathetic Cupid?"

Harut breathed hard and heavy. He patted a spot on his shoulder where the electricity had made Father William's vestments ignite in fire. "My mistake. Let me send you to some place more remote." He shot out his hand and snapped his fingers before Sariel could react.

Sariel vanished.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean had been watching the whole thing.

"Bring her back, brother," said Castiel with a frown. "I don't want to hurt you."

The Fallen Angel's eyes went soft for his younger brother. Castiel could have swore that for a moment he saw pain in Harut's eyes. As if the Fallen Angel's heart was ever so lightly cracking. Harut's mouth became a grim slit. "I'll send you to some place nice."

He snapped his fingers. Castiel vanished.

"No!" yelled Sam and Dean together.

Kali turned to the shouting brothers. Baldr took hold of her face in his hands. He brought her back to his own. "Kali, please, forget about the Winchesters. Forget about Gabriel. He lied to you. He made you believe he was Loki when he was not. I have never lied to you. I have been there for you every moment we've been together up to the moment of my death."

"Baldr." Kali closed her eyes and thought about what the Norn had said about the red string on her finger still connecting her to Gabriel. She could not forget him. Or at least let go of him not when he was vulnerable. She opened her eyes and touched Baldr's cheek. "I'm sorry."

She pulled away from the god. Cupping her hands, she built a ball of white flame and threw it at Harut. The fire hit him and covered every inch of him like a blanket. Harut dropped to the floor, screaming. The god hopped onto one of the tables and jumped to the next one and the next and the next, heading towards where Jack was. Harut jerked his head up and bared his teeth. The fire died out as quickly as it came. Still on all fours, he glared up at Kali who was now with the Humans.

"Damn these gods." He shot out a hand in Kali's direction.

Baldr grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him against the wall. The wall shattered. Baldr was not satisfied. He ran over to where the Harut had landed. Yanking a fist full of Harut's hair, he swung the Fallen Angel to the other side of the room. Harut flew and struck another wall. A shower of debris fell on the Humans who were trying to hide in the corner. They screamed and scrambled for another corner.

The god shook his head at their terror. He started to march towards the Fallen Angel again when he felt himself being thrown back across the room. He hit the wall with force but not strong enough to knock him out.

Harut's Demon followers were up. One had thrown the god with a wave of his hand. The other was heading to the Fallen Angel to help his master up. From the ground, Harut spat out a mouthful of cement dust. He smacked the Demon's hand away and climbed to his own feet. He looked at Baldr pinned up against the wall and smiled.

Kali dropped to her knees in front of Dean and Sam. "Where is he? Where's Gabriel?"

Dean pointed at a stranger next to him. The man had his legs pressed up against his chest with his arms wrapped around a girl. The two of them had their faces buried in each other's necks in the strange thought of if they could not see the danger, then danger could not see them. Kali peeled the two away from each other. He pressed the man against the wall and lifted his chin.

She gasped as he stared at a familiar face. His hair was a little longer, his face was clean shaved and he had sideburns but he was still the same in her eyes.

"It is you!" She tried to hide a smile but it came through. "Gabriel."

The man wiggled out of her grasp."Miss, I am sorry but I am not-"

"Cut the crap!" Dean pushed his face between the two. "We get it. You've lost your memory. But let me tell you, ...whatever you are calling yourself now-,"

"Jack," said Nabuko.

"Seriously? 'Jack'? Out of all the names-" Dean waved the thought off, "Look, _Jack_, you are not Jack. You're Gabriel. One pain in the butt Archangel. But a good pain in the butt Archangel. And we need you to take your brother there down because if you don't, all of us are dead! Understand? Dead!"

Jack opened his mouth to say something but could not find the words. He looked at the three strangers staring at him with panicking eyes. Only half an hour ago he was some dumb schlub who could not remember his past and worked at a shelter. Now he was an Archangel. Not only an Archangel but Gabriel. He could not believe it. He felt his chest beginning to hurt. He wondered if he was having a heart attack from stress. He shook his head.

"Jack," Naboku grabbed his hands, "Remember your flashbacks. That young girl with the almond shaped eyes who you told she was pregnant. The other girl who you told had to take up arms and fight for her country. If you are Gabriel, it makes sense who they are, right? One's Mary and the other-"

"Joan of Arc." Jack thunked his head against the wall. He closed his eyes, diving deep within himself looking for something that would make him believe in all of this. Make him believe that he was an Archangel. He could not. His mind would not. The only person he could see was himself in his plaid shirt and jeans, making sandwiches and feeding the homeless. For that was what he wanted to see.

Baldr began to scream.

Everyone turned to see Harut still having the god pinned to the wall, tearing strips of flesh off of Baldr's face. Dean and Sam rose to their feet in instinct. Dean took out his gun and Sam raised his, again. Someone whistled. The brothers turned left to see the two Demons waving hello at them. Dean aimed but one Demon waved his hand. The young man flew across the room.

Sam called out to him. A moment later he was thrown in the same direction. The Demons looked at each other and laughed. They began to approached the wounded brothers ready to finish their kill. Kali clenched her teeth fighting the urge to running towards the Demons like a battering ram. She knew she could handle low life Demons but not Harut. She looked at Baldr. Half of his face was gone. She balled her fists, digging her nails into the meat of her palms. She had to wake up Gabriel.

She turned to the counters, peering up to look for silverware. She saw what she needed. Still crouched down low, she grabbed a knife. She returned to Jack, sitting in front of him. "Gabriel, you have to remember. Or at least, remember me. You called yourself Loki. You fooled us all. All but me. I knew who you were but I did not care. Remember?"

Jack shook his head. His eyes were lining with tears. "_I can't."_

Kali closed her eyes. She knew what she had to do. "The last thing we did together, you and me in the lounge, surrounded by gods. You will remember that. Because I know you can't forget my betrayal because I can't." She curled her hands around the knife, "I'm sorry."

She stabbed Jack in the chest. The man screamed. Naboku yelled, pushing Kali off of him. The god fell back, waiting and hoping. Nabuko stared at the knife jutting out of Jack's chest. She was not sure what to do. She touched the handle and let go. She began to sob, burying her face in her hands. Jack was going to die and she could not do anything. She was going to die soon after and she knew she could not do anything about that.

She felt a hand on her head. Jerking up right with a gasp, she stared at the man she had been calling Jack for months. He was giving her a reassuring half smile. There was something in his eyes that was different. Something old that she could not put a finger on. She looked at the knife that was still sticking out from his chest. He took hold of it and pulled the blade out without so much as a whimper. There was blood at the end of the knife but there was no stain spreading across his shirt. Nabuko was shocked by this. She took the shirt edges of the stab hole and spread them. Underneath the shirt, the entry wound was gone. A scar had formed and was already fading into perfect skin. Nabuko pulled back her hands in amazement.

She cupped the man's face. "Jack?"

He smiled again, making his eyes crinkle. 'It's Gabriel, kiddo."

She fell back in her seat, stunned. Gabriel chuckled at this. He then turned to Kali, waving the bloody knife at her. "That's twice you've stabbed me in the heart. Most women would have just written a 'Dear John' letter." He pulled down his shirt, sticking his thumb in the hole. "Next time you want me to remember, how about you kiss me instead?"

Kali laughed in relief. "You _do_ remember?"

"Everything." He frowned, staring at his knees. His past life, his real life was unfolding in his head, filling every space that had been closed off. He understood why he had woken up crying all of those months ago. Why he had felt so hollow and in agony. He also understood why Father had sent him to Pastor Francis and the town of Leafwood. He remembered God's words to him before he awoke. God had been right. Gabriel understood his Father better than any of the other Angels. Though, he still was not pleased with Father's cause. Gabriel felt used. "You know, Kali, I was actually happy here for a while. It was nice to be a shelter worker whose main worry was about having enough soup to feed a group. None of this war of Demons, Angels or gods. But Dad had to keep me hanging on. Thanks, Pop."

Kali grabbed the Archangel by the knees, "Gabriel, sulk later. We need you."

"You've always had a way with words." He climbed to his feet and sighed. He went over to the counter and grabbed a bunch of forks. They melted together and formed a trident. He looked over his shoulder, "By the way, Kali meet Nabuko. She's a clever girl from California. Wicked sense of humor. Nabuko, meet Kali. Chaos goddess of Hinduism. Really great sense of fashion and has mean right hook."

The two women looked at each other, raising an eyebrow each.

Gabriel held up his trident, "Kali, watch Nabuko. She's your responsibility for now." He frowned, "I've got a brother to wrangle."


	12. Chapter 12

NOTE: yeah...it has been awhile. Sorry about that. Okay, you know how I said in the last chapter there was only going to be one more chapter and an epilogue? Well, it turns out I was wrong. I started to write Chapter 12 not realizing how much needed to be tied up. Normally, my chapters run anywhere from seven to ten pages. I am over twenty pages on Chapter 12 and I am still not finished. So, I've split up the chapter. Here is the first half and the second half, now Chapter 13 will be coming very soon. Again, sorry about that.

I am with Gabriel on this chapter, "like herding cats." When you have too many bull headed characters, none of them are going to be grouped together easily.

As with everything, Kripke rules all. Thank you for letting me play in your sandbox.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask. Thank you for reading this silly not so little story.

* * *

**CHAPTER 12**

Baldr felt himself slipping away. The pain was too great for him to take. More than half of his face was gone. Stripped off and lying on the floor. Soon, Harut would work his way down to the god's chest, then his arms, then his torso and finally his legs. All to be ripped free of flesh.

Baldr wished he had never come to Leafwood. He had only been brought back by God and now he was going to die again. _Perhaps He will resurrect me once more. But then_, the god thought, _perhaps he saved me in the first place in order for me to go through this. Perhaps this is my real punishment. To be killed over and over by Angels. _

He wanted to cry out to Kali. To yell for her to run. But he knew it was useless. Harut was going to kill her too.

He closed his eyes and thought, _Angels kill everything they touch._

"Put Baldr down, brother."

Baldr opened his eyes and looked towards the voice. Through the wall of tears, the figure standing there with a weapon looked familiar. Like someone, who long ago in another life, tricked his own brother into killing him.

"Gabriel," said Harut. "Have your memories returned? Oh, look at that trident. Guess they have. So, what now, brother? Are you going to try to take me down? Sariel and Castiel didn't have much luck in that."

Gabriel stood his ground. "Just shut up and release him."

Harut kept Baldr pinned to the wall. He ripped off a strip of flesh from the god's neck. "Why do you care about what happens to this Aesir? He planned on kidnapping when you were helpless. Probably would have taken you to some place unpleasant."

"I doubt that. This is Baldr. I know him. His idea of unpleasant is staying at a four star hotel that doesn't have a nice Merlot on call for room service. Besides, I know exactly what he was going to do. He was going to use me as a bargaining chip..._again._" Gabriel rolled his eyes. "I don't know why he would think it would work this time. It didn't work last time." He lowered his trident. "Let him go, Harut. He is needed."

"By whom?"

"By Father."

Harut began to laugh. What would his Father, creator of all things seen and unseen, need a pathetic little god for? He stepped away from Baldr and doubled over in a coughing fit of laughter.

Gabriel vanished and reappeared in front of Baldr. He grabbed the god by the shoulder and vanished again. He returned to where Kali was. Baldr dropped into Kali's waiting arms. The god looked at the mortally wounded Aesir and then at Gabriel. Her eyes pleaded once more for help. Gabriel chewed the inside of his mouth for a moment before touching Baldr's bloody forehead. The god blinked to find his pain gone. He touched his face. His hands felt soft, warm flesh. He had been healed. He looked up at Gabriel.

"You know, you're a stupid ass, right?" said Gabriel to him. "By now, that's just a fact."

"You shouldn't have done that, brother."

Gabriel shouldered his trident and turned around to meet his brother's glare once more. The Angel had his teeth bared in a twisted snarl. His hands were raised, ready to fight. Gabriel sighed in frustration.

"Just quit it, Harut. Enough already."

The Angel shook his head and swung out a hand over him.

Gabriel remained still.

Puzzled, Harut swung his hand again. Once more, Gabriel stayed put. The Archangel rolled his eyes again.

"Remember who you are waving at, bro. Your tricks, your spells, your glitz and glamor, I know it all and then some. In fact, the only other person who knows more magic than me that isn't our Pop is in a cage down South keeping busy with Mikey."

Harut waved his hand again. This time a pair of blue chairs lifted in the air and flew at the Archangel. "You are not going to send me back!"

Gabriel snapped his fingers. The chairs turned into confetti. A shower of glittery bits fell over him. He blew a few pieces off of his shoulders. He turned back to Harut. The Angel was biting into the palm of his hand. He needed blood to preform a masking spell to help him escape. Gabriel ran up and grabbed him by the wrist. He yanked the palm away from the Angel's mouth.

"Stop damaging this body. I happen to like this vessel and I want him to remain in one piece. With that one piece still having his limbs attached."

Harut glared at Gabriel's hold on him. "I will destroy this body and every Human in this town if you don't let me go."

Gabriel still held on. "Harut. I am not sending you back. I promise. But, again, it's _over._"

A chair hit Gabriel, sending the Archangel slamming against the wall. Harut turned to see who was the thrower. The Demon with a beard grinned at his handiwork. He looked at Harut. "Sir, I suggest we leave."

Harut turned back to Gabriel. The Archangel was shaking his head, dazed for a moment. Harut grabbed Gabriel's trident that was lying on the floor and threw it at the Demon. The weapon speared him in the chest, throwing him against the wall and trapping him there. The Demon's body shook in shock as he gazed down at the trident impaling him. He looked up at his master.

Harut was frowning, "Do not get in the middle of someone else's family matters. It's rude."

The Angel snapped his opened hand shut. The Demon's head exploded in a bomb of bone and muscle. Red gore sprayed the wall. Chunks of grey matter splattered across the floor. A flash of orange electricity made the rest of the body danced as the Demon inside was destroyed.

"You traitor!" yelled the other Demon. He jumped on the table. "You were never for us. It was a trick, wasn't it? Wasn't it?"

Harut waved his hand. The Demon flew across the room and slammed into the wall. His head twisted around on its neck and popped off. It hit the floor with the rest of body following a moment later. More electricity crackled as the Demon was vanquished.

"How can I be a traitor when I never swore allegiance to you?" Harut scrunched up his face, "Stupid Demon."

He turned back to where Gabriel was but the Archangel was gone. Harut spun around, ready to find Gabriel behind him in order to grab him. However, Gabriel was not there either. Harut looked across the room to see Gabriel helping two Human women and young boy who had been hiding in the corner.

"Jack, what is going on?" said a middle aged woman in a blue denim coat.

Gabriel smiled as he squatted down. "It's okay. Everything is going to be fine." He knew the two homeless women and the boy from their frequent visitations to the shelter. They were good people who had been out of luck for a while. Even more so now. "Maggie, Prissy, Scott, this is what I need for you to do. You are going to walk out of this mess and head to rooms six, eight and twelve. They're empty. Crash there. Take a nap." He touched each of their foreheads. Their eyes became heavy lidded. "When you wake up this craziness will be gone and you will think of this as nothing but a dream."

"Like a Midsummer Night's Dream?" said Scott as felt himself grow leaded with wanting sleep.

Gabriel smiled. "Exactly like a Midsummer Night's Dream."

He stood up. "Brother," he said without looking at Harut. "These people are leaving. And you are going to let them leave. Understand? No more abuse."

"Now, now, now, Gabriel," said Harut, "I believe we were talking. You should not be so dis-"

The lights in the room began to flicker. A buzz of electricity filled everyone's ears. Gabriel turned to his brother. The Archangel's face was as serious as death. _"No more abuse."_

Harut did not say anything. Turning back to the Humans, Gabriel patted Maggie on the shoulders and told the three to go. Slowly, they walked along the wall, stepping over debris and knocked over chairs. Their eyes shadowed the ground as they went past Harut who stared at them with a blank expression. They left the dining room and ran down the hallway. Their foot steps echoed down the corridor and died as they slipped into their rooms.

Gabriel sighed in relief. "Thank you, Harut."

"'Thank you, Harut'? 'Thank you, Harut'?" Baldr was on his feet again. The god was turning red with fury. He glared at the Angel as he pointed at Gabriel. "This..._thing_ rips off my face but not before tossing you and me around like a leaf in the wind and you say, 'Thank you' to it?" He sidestepped around Harut who was keeping a tight lipped glare on him. "What are you doing, Gabriel? Go and fight your brother. That's what you, Angels, do well, right? Battle amongst yourselves. Tear each other apart. Brother killing brother."

"No, that's what gods do amongst themselves," said Harut with a disgusted grin.

Baldr balled his right hand into a fist. "You are out numbered, Angel. We can-"

"_SHUT UP!" _

The two gods turned to see Gabriel frowning. "The two of you. Just shut your yaps." He rubbed his face with his hands in frustration. "Seriously. Don't the both of you get it? Baldr, I know you are not the sharpest knife in the drawer. And, Harut, well, I'm sure you've gone Cast Away nuts being stuck in Hell all of this time. But the bell has rung, fellas. Step out of the ring already."

"Gabriel," Kali was on her feet and walking up next to Baldr. She pointed at Harut. "Are you taking his side now?"

"You too, Kali?" He sighed. " I'm not taking _anyone's_ side. If I was, I would be taking the Humans' side. And those two wouldn't even be here because I would have sent them to the Phantom Zone the moment my memories had returned. I mean, look at this place." He glared at the god and the Angel, "You destroyed a homeless shelter. Really? A homeless shelter? What's next? Are you going to hit an orphanage and kick around a couple of toddlers?" He shook his head and snapped his fingers. Half of the tables in the middle of the room disappeared. A large overstuffed velvet couch replaced the tables on one side. Three separate gilded and satin covered lounge chairs replaced the tables on the other side. _"Sit."_

Baldr eyed the gaudy chairs that looked like they had come from a bad play about French royals. "What?"

"Take a seat" said Gabriel again as he turned his back to them. He waved his arm above his head, "But do it in the chairs. The couch is reserved for Nabuko." He spied over his shoulder, "Kiddo, how are your feet?"

"They're okay," said Nabuko as she stepped out from behind the counter like a skittish rabbit. "They are a little swollen though."

"Then have a seat as well. I guarantee you this will be the best couch your will ever sit on."

"Jack," she whimpered looking at the two gods and the Angel staring at her. "I mean, Gabriel, I'm-I'm-."

Gabriel appeared before her. She gasped, taking a step back. He smiled, holding out his hand. "Relax, kiddo. I won't let anyone hurt you."

She stared at his hand. It was the same inviting hand she had held for so many months. She returned to his eyes. They were crinkled with warmth for her. The same tenderness she had seen when she first came to the shelter, homeless and in need for salvation. Her heart pounded as she slipped her hand into his. But when he gripped her, she calmed down. Yes, this was an Archangel before her but deep down, she knew that the Jack she thought as family was still in there, watching over her.

The two made their way past Kali, Baldr and Harut and to the couch. Gabriel helped the girl sit down.

Moaning came from the other side of the room. Baldr caught sight of two young men sitting up from the spots where they had been thrown. "Oh, goodie, the Winchesters are awake."

"Dean," Gabriel lifted his voice behind him without turning around. "are you alright?"

Dean rubbed his head. He could not find any bumps but there was a knot in his shoulder that was quickly turning into a bruise. But the injury was nothing that a little ice and an over the counter pain killer would fail to mend. "Pretty much." He looked over to Sam. The younger brother was climbing to his feet and dusting himself off. He did not seemed to be even slightly shaken by the fact that he was in the middle of an Angel and god rumble. Dean tried to brush off the uneasiness that Sam's attitude was giving him. He rose to his feet and sniffed. "What about you? You got your memories back?"

"I know that you and your brother are a pair of the unluckiest bastards this side of the universe."

"That works for me." He nodded at Harut and Baldr. "Why are they still up on their feet? Haven't you taken care of them already?"

"You want me to kill my brother, too?" Gabriel slowly turned to Dean. The Archangel's stern face was unsettling. "Yeah, because you telling me to do that last time worked out _so well."_ He wanted to add, _And you couldn't kill your brother when you needed to. So, don't ask me to do something that you aren't willing to do. _Instead, he bit his tongue. He did not need to start a fight.

"Gabriel, what exactly are you doing?" asked Harut who was returning the evil glare that Dean was giving him.

The Archangel held up a finger at Nabuko, indicating that he would return in a moment. "I'm working, Harut."

"And we are simply supposed to stand here?" said Baldr.

"I gave you chairs." He started to make his way across the room, going past the Winchesters. He snapped his fingers at them and jerked his hand in a motion to follow him.

Sam and Dean exchanged looks. Sam shrugged his shoulders and began to follow Gabriel. Dean held back for a moment, afraid of the situation but ran after his brother when he realized that Sam was not going to think it over.

"I don't want a chair, Gabriel," yelled Baldr from across the room. "I want you."

Gabriel stopped in front of the crumpled body of Pastor Francis. The Archangel gazed down at the man and held his back to the god. "Are you sure you should be saying this to me, Baldr? Kali is right there. And you've only reunited a few minutes ago. She'll be jealous of your love for me. Though to tell the truth," he tossed his head back and winked, "I'm flattered."

Baldr flared his nostrils. He threw back his shoulders, preparing for a fight. "I am through with this, Archangel. If you don't-"

Gabriel threw his hand in the air.

Baldr was lifted from the ground. He flew to an overstuffed chair and was slammed down hard. He felt the wind knocked out of himself.

"The next person who dares to make a threat or whine or just.._.talk_, so, help me, I'll put you in a tube top and make you sing bad karoke. We are talking Jefferson Starship bad." Gabriel took Pastor by the chin. "Am I clear?"

No one said anything. Kali walked over to the empty seat next to Baldr and sat down. The Aesir glared at her as if asking her to help him do something about Gabriel and Harut. Kali shook her head. Baldr was acting like an idiot and she knew she had to be the brains for him at the moment. She place her hand on his and squeezed. He glanced down at her hold and frowned. He remained still.

Gabriel softly slapped Pastor's face, trying to wake up him up. The man moaned as his eyes fluttered. He shook his head and focused on Gabriel. "Jack?" He sat up, feeling his forehead. There was a lump forming at his right temple. The pain was telegraphing against his skull. "What happened? I-"

He saw the mess the shelter was in and the new chairs in the middle of it. He spied Harut. The Angel was still glaring. Pastor went white as he clutched his chest. His breathing became shallow.

Gabriel touched Pastor's damaged forehead. The lump and the pain vanished. "Pastor, Pastor. It's okay. It's alright."

"What is happening?" He looked up to see Dean and Sam standing over him. "Boys?"

"Guys," said Gabriel as he looked at the brothers. "Help him up and have him sit next to the girl on the couch." He patted Pastor on the knee, "Nabuko will fill you in."

Sam and Dean nodded and helped Pastor to his feet. They took him to the couch as Gabriel went for Father Gallagher. He awoke the priest and had Dean and Sam return to help him to the couch. Pastor and Father looked at each other, then at Nabuko, who shrugged her shoulders. They then stared across at the familiar looking Harut in William's body and the strangers, Kali and Baldr. The gods and the Angel were stone faced as if the expressing any emotion in the presence of a Human was beneath them. Still, the three looked Human in their suits and vestments but the way the hair on Father and Pastor's arms was raised out of instinct, told the two Humans that they were not. Father and Pastor sunk deep into the couch and clutched the crosses that hung around their necks. Nabuko cleared her throat. Father and Pastor turned to her. She crooked her finger, bringing them closer. She told them what she had seen while they had been knocked out.

Dean and Sam walked up to Gabriel. "What now?"

"Now, you guys sit as well." He snapped his fingers. Two more overstuffed chairs appeared. They stood between the two other sets of furniture making a horseshoe shape.

Dean looked at the seats and then back at Gabriel. "You're kidding, right?"

"You've seen my kidding face. This isn't it." He head gestured at the chairs. "Go and have a seat. Personally, I like the plaid one with the high back."

Sam made his way towards the furniture. Dean was shocked at how easily his little brother was taking this. Sam was acting as if someone had told him to take a chair while waiting at the DMV. He then looked at the gods sitting there like children outside the Principal's office. Then at Father and Pastor who were as white as fresh ash. Their faces were twisted with bewilderment at what Nabuko had whispered to them. Then Dean looked back Gabriel. The Archangel was dancing his fingers in the air as if he was trying to mark things off of a mental checklist. Dean found the act odd. He was expecting the Archangel to be fighting his brother and Baldr. But instead, Gabriel was forcing everyone to sit down like he was setting up a town meeting.

A shudder ran up Dean's spine as the truth sparked in his head. He understood everything. Or at least, he thought he did. "Oh, crap, Gabriel. This isn't one of those 'all roads lead to Rome' deals, is it?"

Gabriel looked up at the young man. For a moment, Dean swore that the Archangel seemed to be relieved that someone got what was going on.

"For crying out loud." He threw his hands in the air. "This is bullcrap. And I am not doing it. I lost a month of life, Gabriel, searching for you. A month!" He went and grabbed Sam by his sleeve. "C'mon, we're going."

"You can't, Dean," said Gabriel in a solemn voice.

"Really, fly boy? Watch me."

"_Rome_, Dean." Gabriel frowned. "_Rome._"

Dean thought about what the Archangel was saying. He let Sam go. The younger brother sunk back in his chair, indifferent about the rift between Dean and the Archangel. Dean glared at Gabriel. The Archangel shrugged his shoulders and gave him a pathetic smile. Turning back to the chair, Dean shook his head and kicked one of the wooden legs. The chair scraped the floor as it move backwards. A moment later, the chair slid back to its original place. Dean made a face. _Magic chairs? Really?_ He dropped into the seat, slamming his feet down as he did so.

Pastor Francis looked at the young man confused and then over at Gabriel, "Rome? What do you mean by that? And Nabuko said that," he nodded at Harut, "is not Father Gallagher but an Angel. And you are an Archangel. The Archangel, Gabriel. Is this true?"

"Yeah, it's true but give me a second for the rest of the explanation, Pastor." Gabriel chewed on the inside of his mouth, "I need to return the two missing players before we can kick off this shindig." Gabriel turned to Harut, who was still standing like a glowering statue. "Time to zap back the siblings, bro."

Harut slowly shook his head. "Sariel will drag me back to Hell."

"Sariel will do squat to you. I won't let her." Gabriel stepped up to his brother. "Look, I'd get her myself but the fact that she hasn't popped up, herself, in the last few minutes means that you've hid her well. So, well, that even she has no idea where she is. Do you honestly want me to go searching for her while you wait here for who knows how long? Like I promised, you are not going anywhere, Harut, and while that means no imprisonment down below, it also means no freedom up stairs. In short, quit your knee knocking and return her."

Harut stared into his brother's eyes. Gabriel was not joking. Given the choice of having an Earth Archangel mad at him or one of the four highest Archangels mad at him, he knew what he had to do.

He waved his hands. Sariel appeared. Her arms and legs were covered in chain shaped burn marks. The tips of her bangs were singed. Her eyes were raw red, not from crying but from not being able to blink. She reeked of sulfur and blood. She bared her teeth at Harut. Blood dribbled down her lips, revealing slashed gums and broken teeth.

She did not wait for Harut to talk. She threw a fist in the air. The open light over head buzzed. An arch of electricity ran down and raced through her. She pointed her fist at her brother, ready to destroy his vessel and return him to Hell. The electricity jumped from her fist but did not hit Harut. The bolt ran sideways to Gabriel's open hand. The Archangel molded the power into a ball and held it in his palm.

"Calm down, Sariel," he said as gently as he could.

Sariel threw down her fists, killing the arch. Her face went soft as she stared at her brother. "Gabriel? You're back?"

Gabriel shook his fist, ending the tingling in his fingers. "I'm back. And we need to-"

"Banish Harut," she spun to face her other brother. "I know. He belongs in Hell."

Harut took a step in retreat, switching his startled gazed between his sister and his brother. His heart sunk fearing that he had been tricked by Gabriel. Together, the two Archangels would have no problem throwing him into the pit again..

Gabriel jumped between his two siblings. He held his arms out, turning his body into a shield. "Look, I've already went through this mess with Harut and the gods there. No one is going anywhere."

Sariel frowned. "What are you doing?"

"Didn't you hear what I just said, Sariel. No one is-"

"But he's Fallen. It is our duty to keep him imprisoned below!"

"It's your duty. Not mine."

Sariel seized Gabriel by the shoulder before he could react. She tossed the Archangel aside. "Then let me do Father's law."

Gabriel hit the floor. He rolled around to see Sariel arching the electricity again. Harut was too stunned to move. Gabriel snapped his fingers.

Sariel vanished.

Everyone turned to Gabriel. He got up on his knees and face palmed. "Stupid, stupid, Gabriel. Why did I go with the Marine with wings first?."

"Brother."

Gabriel climbed to his feet. He looked at Harut. The young Angel's face was a show of disbelief and slight relief.

"You saved me."

"I told you I wouldn't let her hurt you." He dusted himself off. "Honestly, why is everyone acting like such pain in the asses?"

"She's going to be furious with you now," said Harut.

"Yeah, well, she's an Archangel of Earth. When are they ever not furious?" He took a deep breath. "Let's take this from the top again but start with the bookworm."

Feeling safer in Gabriel's presence, Harut nodded and did not resist the order. He waved his hand once more.

Castiel appeared. His vessel's skin seemed to have tanned, giving him a lovely copper glow. He was holding a hollowed out coconut shell that was filled with a cocktail and decorated with tiny blue and pink umbrellas. A reddish-purple and powder blue lei graced his neck. There was sand in his hair.

Dean was taken back by Castiel's new look. "Where the hell did you go to?"

Castiel turned to Dean. The Angel seemed confused as he glanced at the coconut in his hand and the rubble of the shelter around him. "There were girls...in bikinis. Many of them."

"Girls in bikinis?" Gabriel raised an eyebrow at Harut.

The Angel shrugged and smiled. "Told him I'd send him to some place nice."

Castiel spun around and glared at Harut. He dropped the drink, which Gabriel caught just as it was about to hit the floor. The Angel of Order threw back his shoulders. "Harut."

"Don't make me fight you again, Castiel," said Harut as he threw back his own shoulders.

"No, no, no, NO!" Gabriel stormed in between the two of them. He shoved a hand in Castiel's chest and pushed the Angel across the room. Shocked, Castiel stumbled but did not say anything. Gabriel snapped his fingers. Sam and Dean's chairs slid away from each other. A third chair, a low back green one with red checks, manifested between them. Gabriel seized Castiel by the shoulder and strong armed him down into the chair.

Castiel was too stunned to speak. He watched as Gabriel walked away. The Archangel shook his head muttering something about, "like herding cats." He sipped at the coconut drink, made a disgusted face and settled it on a table. Castiel took off his lei and placed it on the floor. He caught Dean giving him the hairy eyeball. The Angel bit his lip.

"You knew Sam was back, didn't you?." Dean leaned past the Angel to see Sam not paying attention to anything. "How long has Sam been back and how long of that time did you know he was back?"

Castiel sunk in his chair. He tried to avoid looking Dean in the eye.

Dean snorted. "Hey, don't you dare clam up." He pointed at Sam. "Well? How long have you been back? Days? Weeks? Months? And who else knows that you've been back." He blinked realizing something. "Does Bobby know?"

Sam and Castiel exchanged glances. Though they did not utter a word, their frowns made Dean understand everything.

"Bobby knows!" Dean slammed back in his chair. "Am I the only schmuck who didn't know that you were out of the cage?"

"Dean!"

Dean snapped forward to see Gabriel shaking his head. "Now is not the time. You can play couple's therapy on your own dime."

The young man opened his mouth to say something but instead waved his hands in frustration.

"Dean..." said Castiel.

"Cram it, Cas." Dean folded his arms and stared off towards the kitchen.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. If he did not know any better, he could have sworn that he was developing a headache. "Okay, time to bring back Sariel...again." He pointed at the empty chair next to Baldr. "Harut, have a seat. It will probably be easier for sis to listen to me if she sees that everyone is sitting."

Harut obeyed.

Gabriel took a deep breath and snapped his fingers. Sariel appeared. Her skin and hair were healed. She no longer smelled of blood and sulfur but of flowers. There was a lilac sprig tucked behind her right ear. She threw back her shoulders as she realized she had been teleported again. Her eyes darted around, taking in the shelter and the people in it. Her gaze met Gabriel's. She bared her teeth. The lights began to flicker.

"Oh, grow up," said Gabriel as he glanced up at the light and made it stop. He pointed at the empty spot next to Harut. A new chair, grey with pink flowers, appeared. "You need to take a seat. I have to talk to you."

"I had forgotten how insane you are, Gabriel."

"Welcome to the refresher course, sis. Now sit."

Sariel barely shook her head. "I am taking Harut back to Hell and then you and I are going to have a long talk."

Gabriel snapped his fingers. The walls, the floor and ceiling vanished and were replaced by a black nothing. Dean jolted back in his seat, bringing his legs as tightly against his chest as he could. Father, Pastor and Nabuko did the same. Baldr and Kali were staring upward at the blankness to notice that the floor was gone. Harut and Castiel were both amazed but not shocked. Sariel folded her arms and let out a grunt.

"A sub-pocket?" she said.

_"My sub-pocket_." Gabriel folded his arms as well, "Some place you can not get out of unless I let you. So, if you want to stand there and pout, be my guest. But I am not letting you leave. With or without our brother."

The younger Archangel gritted her teeth again. She tried to build a field of electricity but found that she could not. She then tried to make the realm around her shake. Nothing happened. The anger in her swelled. "Gabriel, I am going to-"

"No, you are not." He walked across the nothingness toward his sister as if he was strolling along a park path. "Sariel, you want to follow Father's law? This is Father's law."

Sariel scrunched up her face. "What do you mean?"

"Gabriel, if you do not turn this place into something, I am going to puke!" said Dean. He was rolled up in a ball. His hands covered his face as he tried to block out the nothingness as best as he could.

Gabriel turned to Dean. "What now?"

Sam leaned over Castiel to spy on his brother. "He's afraid of heights. Forget about him going on planes."

"Shut up, Sam." Dean moaned from behind his hands.

Rolling his eyes, Gabriel snapped his fingers once more. The blackness disappeared, replaced by a medium sized room that was covered in graffiti. A small crowd surrounded the group. They acted completely oblivious to the new strangers that had pushed them to the edges of the walls.

"Better?" called Gabriel.

Dean peeked out from between his fingers. He smelled cigarettes, booze, leather and of people who had not bathed in a couple of days. The combination was a strange odor but still more welcoming than nothingness. He scanned the crowd. There was something off about them. Something very dated. He blinked when the truth dawned on him. No one was holding phones. Given the size of the crowd and the age group, having none of them sporting phones was a bizarre sight. Dean sat up in his chair and turned around in it. He knelt in the cushion seat and looked over the back. Right behind him was an empty stage with speakers and mic stands. An electric guitar was leaning against a well used drum seat.

Even though Dean had never seen that stage before in person, he recognized it from music videos and magazines that he used to watch and read as a teen. "This can't be... Is this?"

"CBGB's." Gabriel smiled. He was proud of his handiwork. "Circa 1976. The Ramones are about to go on stage in five minutes."

"Holy Crap," Dean felt his heart racing. He grinned like a little boy. "The Ramones?"

"Dean," said Sam as he scanned the crowd. "It's not real. It's fake. One of Gabriel's illusions."

"Fake or real, don't give a care. I never got to see The Ramones before Joey died." Dean dug his lighter out of his pocket and flicked it on. "Gabba Gabba Hey!"

Sariel muttered, "Idiot," under her breath. She went back to her brother, not willing to let the question go unanswered. "Gabriel, what do you mean by Father's law?"

"Yes, Gabriel." Harut leaned forward in his seat, "What do you mean by that?"

"This is pointless," growled Baldr, who could not tolerate any more Angel or Human antics. He simply wanted to grab Gabriel and go. "Archangel, what do we have to do with your family?"

"And what about us?" said Nabuko. "Are we involved too?"

Gabriel opened his mouth to speak.

"Oh, come on," interrupted Dean, who had turned back to the group. "Are you telling me no one else has figure it out?" He searched the puzzled faces of Harut, Kali, Father, Baldr and the rest. He turned to his brother. "Really, Sam? You got nothing?"

Sam shrugged his shoulders. He actually had no idea about what was going on.

"So, it's just me." Dean returned his attention to the stage, "Score one for the drop-out."

Sariel did not like being talked down to. Especially by a Human. "Then what is it, Dean Winchester?"

Dean did not turn around. Instead, he struck a finger in the air to make a point. "Destiny!"

The Archangel made a face. "Destiny?" She glanced over to Gabriel who seemed rather pleased with Dean's insight. "Is he saying that we are supposed to be here?"

"All roads lead to Rome!" chimed in Dean.

Sariel stared at her brother in disbelief.

He nodded in agreement with Dean. "_Salve Roma_."

"What?" Kali frowned. "Are you saying we were guided here?"

"Yes, kids." Gabriel made his way into the middle of the horseshoe of chairs. "What you thought was some mad, mad, mad, mad world goose chase, wasn't. In fact, everyone here is where they are supposed to be. This has been planned out for a long time. Gang, I am the Messenger of God and He's got a big ol' Candygram for you."


End file.
